


Flaming Hearts

by Buggo_Writes



Category: Silmarillion, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, the lord of the rings
Genre: Angst, Eventual Lemon, F/M, Falling In Love, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Middle Earth, Multi, OC, Romance, Silmarils, Smut, Tolkien, arda, eventually, mentions of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, please praise me, silmarillion romance, there will be smut yall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 15:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 110,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22458097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buggo_Writes/pseuds/Buggo_Writes
Summary: "You have been chosen, and you must therefore use such strength and heart and wits as you have." - J.R.R. TolkienThey called her Anariel, daughter of the sun, wielder of flames. She had a name before, but she was no longer that person, and would never be again. She chose to start her new eternal life with the name gifted to her by the Eldar and leave her past behind.She was not born in Arda, but forced into it by the evil Morgoth, made to transform into a completely new being and become a weapon of mass destruction. Even with her newfound freedom she was not truly free of the memories and pain of her torment and captivity. Healing from trauma was no easy feat, learning a new culture and how to be without those you held dearest would prove to be difficult in a foreign world. But she would have to live with it, conform to the new world around her and accept her fate. Anariel will live among the elves who granted her sanctuary to heal and learn to live freely again and in return she would defend her new life and loved ones with her heart of fire.Her destiny is now tied to the tragic doom of the Noldor, and despite their ill fate, she will make the most of it.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno & Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo, Maedhros/OC, Maitimo x Anariel, Maitimo x OC, Maitimo/OC
Comments: 215
Kudos: 207





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “There is a saying in Tibetan, 'Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength.'  
> No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, that's our real disaster.” ― Dalai Lama XIV
> 
> Why does it seem that tragedy and love often go hand in hand?

The battlefield was Lothlann, a flat plain where two armies of elves were converging from the west and east to annihilate the army of Angband. It was the last of many smaller battles that had taken place over the past month, that would come to be known as Dagor Aglareb and had begun in favor of the elves who had planned on crushing the orc army between them. The night after the two armies of the Eldar first trapped the forces of Morgoth they had chosen to rest and regroup with each other, leaving the orc army to scramble to come up with a plan that would not end in their total annihilation. A sorceress had been sent with urgency from the side of her master, whom she convinced was his only hope of winning this battle after word had gotten back about the two armies encroaching upon his own. When she had arrived in the night, carried by the swift and tireless beast of the dark master, the orcs regained their terrible arrogance, assured of their victory with her strength and fire magic now at their disposal. She was created by Morgoth to be one of his greatest weapons and had been forced to be burdened with a mighty yet ferocious power. There was no doubt that the tides of the battle would go in her favor. And it did. 

At the dawn of the next day, the orcs began to beat at their drums of war and the sun rose in the east, she stood on a pillar on the front lines facing the west. She wore shining onyx colored armor with garnets and rubies encrusted in various swirling patterns that shone in the first light of the day. It had been custom made for her first battle, lightweight and fitted to her body so that she could move freely while wielding her powers and a sword without hindrance while still looking magnificent as her master had intended. He demanded she make a spectacle of her first appearance in battle, and she did just that as the heat of the morning sun amplified her powers to their limits and she let just a fraction of it show, forming a flaming halo above her head and upwards exalted wings behind her. She was the flaming fist of Morgoth, created to do his bidding and burn his enemies to ash, and for the first time, her powers were to be unleashed to the world.

But when the drums ceased and the armies were ready to charge at one another and let turmoil begin, her wings of flame came down upon the dark army behind her and not that of the elves, baffling both. Her betrayal was uncalled for, her loyalty to Morgoth had been the reason for his trust in sending her to fight, and in turning against him she gave the elves a higher advantage than they already had in winning this battle. It had taken weeks to delve deep enough into her well of power, little by little, for this moment she had been planning since the orcs came down to the south. The longing for her freedom had long remained hidden until at last the perfect opportunity to escape had come.

When she turned to smite the army of evil, the retribution was justified in her eyes. She was not a willing pawn of the dark Vala, having been his captive and slave but had forced herself to play along with his plans, only to hold onto hope for her eventual chance to escape. Her fire stretched down the lines of orcs, scorching countless, those within a hundred feet instantly turned to charred husks and dropped, and much of the army retreated in fear and surprise. It took awhile for them to compose themselves, but she had to applaud their vigor when they charged into battle, heedless of the fire, many still fell in her flames, and the elves were wise enough to stay back. But she could not torch the entire army, and as the orcs grew closer to her podium, she jumped off toward the army of elves, and had to go into close combat, using both flame and sword to fight off the orcs that now saw her as the enemy. Walking backwards from the flaming wall she created between the two armies, she lured whatever orc was daring enough to follow her to the enemy. For a brief second, she looked over her shoulder, to see if they had planned to attack as well, and her eyes were instantly drawn to the eyes of one of the commanders that had been at the front lines. She felt a sudden tug in her chest, and even from yards away she saw into the depths of storming grey eyes a sense of familiarity washed over her but she was unable to react to the feeling. The attention of her and the elven commander was drawn back to the battle as the first of the orcs came through the fire wall, and so the true battle began.

The battle had raged for hours, which felt like an eternity as the sky was darkened with ashy clouds so thick that the sun was unable to peak through. Which were caused by a dangerous cocktail of scattered blazing infernos set by the fire wielder, and an evil miasma sent by her dark creator. The smell of burning carrion was thick in the air, so much so that it lingered in the armies senses for days afterward. The one who had set so many ablaze had weakened and had to resort to a short sword in order to conserve her remaining strength, so that she may still walk away from the battle (or run) as she had intended from the beginning. Not one elf raised a weapon against her, but none came to her defense either, as the orcs came after her, not letting her escape in the time she had hoped. As the hours went on through the day, she managed to make her way from the center of the fighting, out toward the edges of the field. The number of elves grew around her as the orcs were driven back and slaughtered, and soon the vile creatures were few, and the elves moved quickly onward, seeming to ignore her as she sheathed her sword and backed off the battlefield, though she did not dare take her eyes off of it just yet, in case a stray decided to come and slay her as she ran.

'Now is your time, the orcs are failing and the elves are distracted.' A male voice sounded in her mind, the voice was of a spirit that had been guiding her since Morgoth...created her. It had never led her wrong before, and she trusted it enough to follow it’s advice and finally flee from the fields of Lothlann. When she had backed far enough into the treeline she could not be seen, and was confident that she would not be followed, she turned and began to run, despite her aching muscles. A new wave of adrenaline washed over her, flowing through her veins and giving her a new burst of energy to go as fast as she could through the woodlands, not thinking of the exact direction as long as it was away from the battle, and farther from Angband.

'Remove your armor it will only serve to hinder you from this point- keep your smaller blades.' She followed the instructions of the spirit again, slowing slightly to peal the armor off, that had become caked with blood and gore and throw it as far to the side of her path as she could. She had hidden a few other knives on her person, strapped to a belt around her waist and a few others in a bandoleer across her chest, her fire was her main weapon, but she had learned that it could not be her only option. Especially in times like this when she was so close to a burn out that any more use of that flame would likely result in her losing consciousness for hours, even days. She could feel one approaching already, and had to find a safe place to rest where neither elf nor any remaining orcs could find her, lest her escape be futile.

After a while of running, she could hear something in the distance, as the sounds of battle waned, the sound of rushing water grew closer and she followed it to a small opening in the woods. A narrow creek turned into a waterfall over a small cliff and fell into a shallow pool before streaming off again into the distance where it was eventually swallowed up by the forest again. Most of the foliage around her had turned to rich shades of orange and red, and some had even fallen to float in the pool, it must have been autumn and the water would undoubtedly be cold. But she could not help it when her heart leapt at the sight of it, she took a few more steps to the side of the pool, in awe of the tranquility it offered and silently wept as she fell to her knees before the water. She felt the weight of her past lifted from her shoulders, the oppressing control of Morgoth was finally relinquished and she was acquit of his tyranny and cruelty. 

She did not know how far she actually had made it from Lothlann, but her mind had lost most of its reasoning, overcome by the joy of her long awaited freedom. She stripped of her remaining weapons, the boots that constrained her aching feet, and the sweat covered tunic and leggings she had worn under her armor until she was bare to the world. She took a step into the water, which felt cool against her skin that still burned with residual heat from her powers. Steam rose from the water as she moved into the water, halting when her ankles were covered and relishing in the feeling of smooth pebbles and rocks beneath her feet and the lapping water that tickled her. A smile and tentative giggle left her lips as she moved farther and farther into the pool, the water hissing as the heat of her body was enveloped. 

When her toes could no longer touch the bottom, and pebbles and rocks turned to sand, she became giddy, diving under the surface momentarily and enjoying the feeling of her body floating and lightness she felt physically and spiritually. She lost all sense of where she was in time and place as she relaxed, and finally at peace as the water continued to roar softly and the sounds of the forest sang to her. Her hands wandered her body, mindlessly scrubbing at the grime that had built up over the battle, trying to wash it away, and wash the evil forced upon her at the same time. She was so invested in her relaxation and cleaning that she did not notice when, after some time, she had been found, and was being spied upon.

A snap of a twig caught her attention, coming from the shore of the pond where she had left her clothes and weapons. She turned her head sharply towards the noise, covering her decency but remained wading in the shallow water, her glee fading into dread. She saw no one, but could sense eyes watching her, now painfully aware of how foolish she had been in her actions. If she were brought back before Morgoth she doubted he would have mercy, even if she was one of his most powerful tools. She was defenseless and exhausted, her fires had become no more than an ember now that she drowned the last of them in the waters, and unwisely leaving her weapons so far out of reach. She was uncertain of what to do next, if she were to return to the shore there was a more than likely chance that she would be taken prisoner again, she could try to swim to the other side of the pond that was more rugged before they could reach it and take off from there. She would then be without clothes or weapons, and running through the forest nude was definitely a disagreeable idea, but it did not seem like she had any other choice. The orcs would literally pull her from the water by her hair, not caring in the least if she was naked or that they themselves would be getting wet.

“Emme faica tye lala laiva indóme, urúva riel.” (We mean you no ill will, fiery maiden)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't you hate it when people interrupt your zen time?

“Emme faica tye lala laiva indóme, urúva riel.” (We mean you no ill will, fiery maiden) The voice that sounded from the brush surprised her with its pleasant sound, but she only understood a fraction of what was said. 

She was not fully learned in the language of the elves, Morgoth never allowed her to study it, and the spirit that guided her had little patience in teaching her. She did her best to pick up what she could from the elven slaves of Angband, but this was a different dialect. Not an orc, of course such a defiled creature could have such a soothing voice, but a far more fair creature, an elf stepped out of the forest, still clad in bloody armor. His helmet was removed, allowing her to see a handsome face and long golden hair, he seemed just as wary of her as she was of him, but trying to seem...friendly with a tentative smile and open, empty hands. She did not attempt to flee, but remained in the water, letting her body sink a bit lower as to shield herself from his gaze. She continued to observe him, although he was handsome, his features were painted with exhaustion, he must have fought valiantly in the battle, but still had followed her. There was a slight possibility that if he were in such a state, she may be able to fend him off, and continue to run.

The idea of returning to the shore was unappealing, especially without clothing and the eyes of a handsome male on her, but it was the better of the other still unappealing ideas. “Avert your gaze, elf, and I will come out of the water.”

She saw confusion flutter across his face, he did not understand her language either, which was not really bizarre considering she was the only one to speak it. “Ni care- vamme han- tye. Ni maquen- i tye túl ana i rast. I nen must n- nique-.” (I do not understand you, please come to the shore. The water must be cold.) He motioned for her to come closer with his hand.

She grew irritated with the situation quickly, pursing her lips and furrowing her brow, “I don’t understand you, turn around so I can get my clothes.” She knew it was useless to try, but she motioned to him as well, to turn around and then to her clothes.

Again, he looked confused. Until another voice came from the tree line, catching her off guard and making her jump, pulling back into the depths where she had absentmindedly began to move from. “Se does vamme han- tye. Se na- helda, anne- her privacime ana lanne her hrondo.” (She does not understand you. She is naked, give her privacy to cloth her body)

The visible male made a noise of understanding and smiled sheepishly before turning around, with his hands still up, though not leaving the side of the pond. She did not yet see the others that lay in the shadows, and felt her hopes sink to the bottom of the pool, she did not have a choice- other than give into her exhaustion and drowned herself in the waters. However a pull in her chest encouraged her forth, if she could escape Angband and an army of orcs, then she could not give up, she could escape the elves easily once she was back to her full strength. So gathering the remainder of her courage, she waded to the shore, covering as much of her body as she could and quickly moved for her clothing. She wished she had clothing that did not absolutely reek of carrion and sweat, but again, it was better than nothing at all, at least she had managed to scrub the mud and blood from her hair and body. 

When she had donned the tunic and leggings again, the sound of approaching feet told her that the elves were done waiting and granting her pleasantries. She reached for her holster of knives in the small chance that she could still fight her way out of it, but her body was weary and slow, and before her hand could grab onto the hilt of one of the knives, the sound of a sword drawing from its sheath came from close behind her. She saw the light of the setting sun glint off the edge of the blade from her peripheral vision as it was rested above her shoulder and was forced to still. She moved her hands away from the knives and relaxed her posture, her blood ringing in her ears as she slowly stood, and turned, wary of the blade at her throat.

She faced another elf this time, one equally handsome, but the dark counterpart to his accomplice, “Pole- tye han- our lambe?” (can you understand our language?)

They ask if you can understand their language. 'Maybe you should have taken our lessons more seriously.' The voice in her mind made a return, thought it was as weak as she felt. 

'You are the one who chose to quit lessons when I did not pick it up as quickly as you hoped'. She scowled, reminding the spirit bitterly.

'If you would have applied yourself I’m sure I would not have continued them.' He had a solid point, but she was not going to acknowledge that. He told her what the elf had asked how to reply. “Very little.” 

The dark elf withdrew his sword, but kept it unsheathed, “Come with us.” the voice translated for her, but warned her to continue to play dumb. It will work to your advantage to remain inconspicuous, it is unlikely that they will hurt you if you do not show aggression. 

When she turned and followed the elf to his friend, she heard the sound of more movement in the bushes, of course they were smart enough not to capture her with only two soldiers. They saw the damage she had caused the orcs and did not want to suffer the same fate. Two more elves stepped from the woods behind her, she turned to see them take her weapons, and as she was led to the forest again, the blond and dark haired elf were met with three other soldiers still seated on their horses. She had the feeling that there were more hidden among the bushes and trees still covered by fading leaves but did not have the energy to worry about them. The elves began to speak among themselves, the spirit with her continued to translate their private conversation.

“Who will she ride with, you or I?” the blond elf turned to his dark haired companion, “I for one would prefer not to be roasted alive.”

“The camp is not far, she can take my horse and I will walk. If she wanted to harm us, she would have already, she only unleashed herself upon the orcs.” he replied, turning to look her up and down, “whether she should be bound or not is a more pressing concern.”

'They do not know how weak you are,' the voice stated.

“She was reaching for her weapons, Ecthelion. However she did trust us enough to come out of the water, should we break that trust by treating her with none?” 

“And if she is using this as an opportunity to get into our camp and wreak havoc?”

“She was genuinely shocked to see us, and with how...relaxed she had been I doubt that is her intention.”

The one named Ecthelion nodded and looked deep in thought, before turning to her again, then to his horse, “the King gave us responsibility to make the best choices, as long as she returned with us. I see no need to bind her unless she gives us reason.”

She tried to hide her relief and continued to put on a bravado of impatience and slight annoyance. The blond smiled at her again, “we should make haste, lest her temper flare and we be on the receiving end of it.” 

She smiled back at him with a bit of sarcasm, but allowed the other elf to help her upon the large horse, her smile quickly disappearing as it took all her might to remain upright on the beast that stirred uncomfortably. As if it were intelligent enough to know that she was not its master and her master was not quite pleased that his horse be the one to carry her. She then glared at the blond elf who dared to chuckle at the scene, and straightened herself, trying to let of a collected demeanor. He simply climbed onto his own horse, and they began to make their way through the forest.

She began to feel foolish indeed, when no more than twenty minutes later they had come to a clearing in the woods where a large campsite had been set. She welcomed a small burst of energy as she felt the fires set among the camp sing to her, letting their song fill her with the warmth she desired. Her wet hair had been a burden as the night temperature dropped and where she would normally be able to keep herself warm, she began to shiver, and none of the elves took pity for the fact that she was still drip drying as the camp enveloped them. The Eldar rushed around her, the chaos of the battle had died down, but now there were wounded to heal and a camp to run. 

The camp consisted of square and rectangular tents, mostly in white with the occasional larger blue among them, she figured it was to better organize the ones meant for different tasks. Truthfully she had not witnessed a battle or a camp before, having spent all of her time in Angband, it was new to be surrounded by such controlled chaos and not be fearful of what would happen. Yes, she figured she would be considered a captive to the elves, but given how horrible it would have been to be taken by the orcs instead she was sickened by how relieved she was. 

When they had finally stopped, she reluctantly allowed Ecthelion to help her dismount, and lost her footing, she really needed to rest soon, but refused to let them see her so vulnerable. She kept her head high as she was lead into a large and rather ornate dark blue tent, pulling from the flames around them for any strength they could spare. The elves noticed the shift in lighting as the flames dimmed momentarily, and eyed her cautiously, leading her in with a firm hand guiding her by the shoulder. The tent was rectangular, the length of which was used for a large table that held various maps and disregarded food, empty parchment and pens, several of the chairs around the table were unoccupied. However a few elves were scattered around, leaning against thick posts holding the tent up, occupying chairs they dragged closer to the head of the table, and one or two standing to the side, all in various dress of armor, some still in full armor, others completely in tunics, though still grimy from battle. 

She was taken aback by just how beautiful the Eldar were, even covered in dirt and blood, exhausted as she was, they had an elegance to them that was unmatched by any creature she had beheld in this world. To be fair, she had spent the majority of that time in Angband, surrounded by orcs, some other creatures that were far more terrifying and the only beauties were too cruel to linger on. They all paused in their discussion to turn to her, they had been expecting her, of course. 

Her eyes met those of who stood at the head of the table, and immediately she felt the presence of the spirit weigh down upon her. 'Ah Ñolofinwe, brother, you made the journey across the Helcaraxe after all.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and notes as to what you thought kudos are always appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

When she looked into his eyes and felt the power of his fae she was left with no doubt that he had been strong enough to lead his people through such a harrowing endeavor. The Helcaraxe was perilous and unforgiving, but he was given no other choice but to cross it when his brother Feanor had burnt the swan ships, rather than sending them back to bring forth the remaining Noldor. Feanor had assumed that he would follow their youngest brother back to Aman, but she could feel his genuine surprise when he saw Nolofinwe through her eyes. The mighty elf came to stand before her, his stature was intimidating his shoulders broad and his head was held high. There was a regality to him that was hard to miss even after hours of battle and what must have been weeks of organizing and moving an army elves across a continent. She began to feel small in his presence, but forced herself to keep her head high and a facade of her own strength, though the fires were merely enough to keep her standing.

His deep blue eyes pinned her down, as if testing her will against her own but she would not be scared into submission- never again. She summoned the fire in the tent again, the torches dimmed and her aura grew brighter, her lips turned in a smile that let it be known that she was not to be trifled with. She felt the approval of the spirit of Feanor at her display and watched as the elf returned her sharp smile. She paid no attention to the hiss of the blond elf as he was forced to release her shoulder as her skin heated from the fires energy flowing through her. At least she was putting on a decent show even if she felt like utter shit.

“Anariel, great weapon of Morgoth,” His voice was deep and rich, dripping with an authoritarian tone. 

'They name you daughter of the sun, how fitting.' Feanor added commentary to his translations. 

“Tell us why did you betray your master, when he needed you most.” he demanded. 

“She does not speak Quenya, my King.” the blond escort bowed when he spoke.

'Nolofinwe, King? Impossible! Where is Neylafinwe? How dare he assume my sons rightful title?' Feanor began to rant and rave, any translations that he was offering ended.

“She knows more than she is letting on, Glorfindel.” The king must have read through her facade, her eyes gave her away- they always did. Her emotions have always been plain to read and he must have seen the way the fire in her eyes flared at the mention of Morgoth and the disgust of him being called her master. Of course, there really was no way of denying that was what he was. At the very least, he was her creator, and it was reasonable that the elves knew this and questioned her sanity and motive in her betrayal.

Unfortunately, Feanor continued to rant within the confines of her mind rather than to translate. The elves continued to speak and she was left on her own to try and understand whatever she could over the irate spirit. She was only able to get maybe a word of every sentence and she was unsure of whether it was accurate, being that they had a completely different dialect than the enslaved elves of Angband.

“Whime did tye betraime your héru?”(why did you betray your master?) Nolofinwe repeated, still not breaking eye contact, as if through this he could read into her soul.

She did not know how to respond, well not in the way she wanted too, not in a full proper sentence, she grasped for the right words, “So na- vamme mime...héru.” (He is not my master.) 'I feel a bit of gratitude would be nice.' she thought inwardly.

“Mana care- tye faica bime ‘vamme your héru’?” (What do you mean by ‘not your master’?)

Again, she could not find the words, and Feanor was not being cooperative. She grew frustrated, hating Morgoth for keeping her ignorant, and unable to communicate with anyone but him. She had only picked up some of what the slaves had spoken to one another, her personal servant had taught her the very essentials of her language, she was barely able to form basic sentences when Morgoth found out. When he did, she never saw that servant again, and none of the others spoke in her presence from then forth. Feanor had tried to help her, trying to teach her in the realm of her mind the ABC’s of Quenya, the tongue of his people, but she had felt little motivation. Her annoyance at the situation must have been obvious, finally she broke eye contact, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She rubbed her temples, she was truly exhausted and it was taking a toll on her physically and emotionally. Normally she had better control over herself, but she found her anxiety rising and had to fight the tears that stung at her eyes.

The king backed down, though she could sense his frustration through what she could read of his fae, turning to speak to the others in the tent. Glorfindel and Ecthelion remained in the tent as well, but stood by the entrance, their eyes not leaving her back. How could she express herself to them? Get them to understand she was no threat, and only wanted to wander as she would? Of course, where would she go now? She never actually thought this far, in fear of getting her hopes too high. She was in an unfamiliar place, and knew nothing of how to survive in this world, if trying to speak to others was this difficult, how could she possibly make it on her own?

She clenched her fist, luckily her powers were still too weak to flare, even with the energy the fires of the camp had been feeding her. It was barely enough to keep her standing a conscious at this point. The elves kept speaking among one another, their attention darting between her and each other. She did not even have the energy to be frustrated anymore, and had to focus on remaining upright.

Her eyes began to burn and her head felt light. If they did not take her to wherever they had intended to keep her soon, they would have to carry her unconscious body. “Post. Im baur. Na post.” (Rest, I need to rest.) She was not sure if she even said it right, trying to remember the words of the servant before she turned her bed down for the night.

They stopped their conversation and again wore confused faces, “Cin ped- sindarin?” (You speak Sindarin?) a new elf asks, in the tongue she was more familiar with.

She pinched her fingers together, “A little.” she spoke in her own language. 

The king nodded, his attention turned over her shoulders to the two that had initially brought her in, and issued them orders. She did not pay attention to what was being said at that point, and did not bother fighting or putting up a show when they led her out of that tent and walked her through the camp. By this time it was late, the moon had risen and the stars were out, but she did not have the will to admire them as she had longed to do for ages during her captivity. There were not many souls who wandered the camp now, but those who did did not hide their stares, she had made a spectacle of herself during battle alright, just as Morgoth had ordered her to, and it was apparent that she had gained notoriety. For the better or worse yet, she was not sure, it would play out in the days to come. 

When the two elves had finally halted in front of a plain white tent, she was relieved to see that it was too small to be much other than a personal tent. When they held the flap open for her, Glorfindel smiled kindly and said something in his language, pointing to the ground outside the tent. Ecthelion said something back, of course she did not understand but she got the gist of it, they would be outside if she tried to escape. She smiled a bit softer than she had before at him and nodded, wishing him a goodnight, even if he did not interpret either. She entered the plain tent, there was nothing within other than a cot, a small blanket and pillow, but that was more than enough. She was unconscious before her head hit the pillow.

***  
Much as she tried to hide it, the elven king could espy a hidden trauma underneath her careful facade. It was blatantly clear to Nolofinwe that the firebending female had been deeply traumatized by Morgoth and the time spent in Angband, it was wholly possible that she was forced to take on the roll of his weapon. She did her best to put up a strong front to the elves but it was easy to tell that she was not a natural born warrior. There would be much to uncover in the coming weeks while the remaining orcs were hunted down, and the war camps were packed up (after the injured are healed enough to travel). She was no threat to him or his people, from what he saw in battle and was reported to him, the only damage she dealt was toward the orcs, but not once did she raise a blade or flame to an elf. She had even defended a whole company of elves from an onslaught, whether she did it out of sympathy or just to get them out of her way was something to be delved deeper into later. He almost felt remorse in having her sought out, but there was no debate she was too strong of a player to have just let run off the field like that.

To have finally won her freedom, to be taken captive again could only be described as agonizing, and to not be able to understand them would make it worse. Yes, he did feel pity for her, but he was High King of the Noldor and had to make the best decision for his people, and this sorceress would undoubtedly be invaluable to them. Either as an informant to tell them the plans and weaknesses of Morgoth, or even, potentially, a weapon against him in the future. She could be an incredible ally and asset to them, but she was fragile and reasonably frightened, it would be vital that Nolofinwe play his cards just right in order to get her to join the side of the elves. There was only one that he knew who would be able to give him insight on how to approach a once prisoner of Angband, he had been held captive himself, and abdicated the throne in part because of the trauma inflicted upon him. 

“If she shows no signs of hostility then I would not suggest treating her as a prisoner of war,” Maedhros’ voice was strong, but respectful as he stood before his uncle, his king, offering his advice on the matter.

“And if she attempts to leave before we have learned what we have needed from her?” Nolofinwe countered, “you cannot deny that she would be a powerful tool to have at our disposal. We have to keep her in our ranks.”

“You are sound in your logic, Majesty, but if she senses you have that mindset then to her you are no better than the monster she was fighting to flee.” Maedhros felt her desperation during the battle, when fate drew their gazes to one another, “She will burn us all to the ground, and die doing so, she will not allow herself to be subjugated again.”

“How would you suggest we keep her placated then?” Nolofinwe sighed, neither elf had rested much during the night, both had burdened the running of their separate armies camps and refused to relinquish control. The bloodline of Finwe was strong, proud and stubborn.

“At the risk of sounding soft hearted I would say show her kindness, if she is as confused and frightened as you say then she will take far better to benevolence.” It had taken endless amounts of patience and grace for him to ‘heal’, Eru knows that this woman would need it as well, “help her heal and learn, this will win you her trust and quite possibly her loyalty.”

Nolofinwe took a bit to process this information, it was fairly obvious that what Maedhros had suggested was the best course of action to take. He was certain that he saw self doubt in the girls eyes the other night, she needed guidance in her newly found freedom, and to be taught how to live outside of the confines of Angband. If she were to accept the kings offers to help her with this, there was also a possibility she could be gently coerced into being their ally as well. Once she was more fluent in their language then maybe they could discuss her plans for the future, explain to her that it was in her best interest to stay with the Noldor. Maedhros was also right when he stated that she would not allow herself to become prisoner again, if she was not granted the freedom she desired then it would likely end in disaster. Nolofinwe was not one to keep innocents as captives regardless, so in the end if she chose to walk away, he would be forced to let her go, but he would do all he could to prevent that.

“And would you be willing to assist me with this, Nephew?” Nolofinwe asked.

Maedhros tensed briefly, it was not a surprise for this to be asked of him considering the obvious shared trauma, to be honest he expected the question when he first heard of Nolofinwe finding the woman. He just did not have a proper response, and in all honesty, had not come to a conclusion as to whether he would be willing to assist or not. There was the potential that his mutual suffering with her could help in the aspect of having someone to relate too. All too often he found himself having to bite his tongue with Fingon during his recuperation, his friend could say all the reassuring words and offer Maedhros all the support in the world, but it did not change the fact that he would never truly understand what it was like. That at the end of the day, Fingon could not truly understand the pain Maedhros was feeling, because he was not there to witness that horror. 

However there was just as likely of a chance of him ruining any chance they had at gaining her as an ally by being to callus with her, as he often was with others. Since his time hanging in Thangorodrim his disposition could be...difficult for some to handle, not to say that he had become cruel or malicious, but his once tender heart had hardened. To protect himself and others from the painful memories that haunted him, he molded himself into someone much colder than he had been before, and being...nice was not something he was known for. He had not shown another his true heart (other than Fingon and his brothers of course) in decades, and this thought is what brought him to his conclusion.

“I will not be suitable to guide her in the ways that you wish, however I will give you consultation freely on any matter concerning the matter.” he deemed the conversation at its end and knelled before Nolofinwe, he felt an itch that his father's spirit riled with this, “if you will excuse me, I have matters to attend to with my own army. If you are in need of my assistance send an equerry and I will come as soon as I am able.”

He did not give the king a chance to respond before exiting the tent, Nolofinwe sighed again, turning back to the reports in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos appreciated <3


	4. Chapter 4

The sweet sound of birds chirping eased her into consciousness, at first, she thought it was a dream or delusion, and did not dare to open her eyes. If she did, she was sure she would lose the serenity her dreams sometimes gave her to the darkness that was her reality. If she were feeling brave enough, she would pretend to still be unconscious, and she would be given a few extra moments to bask in this feeling before Melkor caught on and forced her to fully wake. But she waited several seconds, and the singing birds were joined by a rustling of wind through drying leaves of autumn. She could hear faint conversation around her, though she could not understand the language, and for a second she heard laughter, a noise she had not even dreamed about in what felt like eons. 

With that she dared to move- but only slightly, still keeping her eyes tightly shut, in fear that this was all just an illusion created as a cruel way of toying with her as he and his Maiar so enjoyed. She was neither on hard, cold onyx floors of his keep, nor the soft silken sheets of his beds, but on a rough cotton cot. She felt the same cotton of a blanket draped over her and a pillow beneath her head, both luxuries she often was not allowed. Another hopeful sign that when she opened her eyes, her turbulent dreams would be correct and she would be safe. It all began to flood her mind as she woke from the coma like sleep her burnout had forced her to go into, the small amount of peace she felt was lost, but at least it was not lost to Melkor.

'Open your eyes, child. No harm will come to you.' Feanor’s voice was soft, and coaxing. 'You are no longer a slave of Morgoth.'

She did as he instructed, slowly blinking away the blurriness of sleep, the tent was dim, but light snuck in through crevices along the bottom of the tent and the entrance. Sunlight. How long had it been since she basked in its rays and felt the sun kiss her skin? The bottom of her tent was covered in a rug, but along the edges where the walls of the tent did not quite reach the ground she saw grass. It was still green, despite how it was now autumn outside, but it would not be for long. She wanted to feel it beneath her feet, sit in it while reading in the sunlight, pulling tufts of it out absentmindedly and watch it fly away in the breeze. 

Her joints popped and her muscles still ache when she finally decided to get out of the cot, stretching them slowly as if any sudden movement would shatter this reality and force her back into the old one. Someone had come in and washed her and laid her in new clothing- her old tunic and leggings were replaced by another set. She would have felt a sense of shame, however, it was not an uncommon occurrence for her this to be done by Morgoth’s servants when he had pushed her to her breaking point. Instead she was grateful that they washed away the foulness and hoped that they burned every item she had on her and melted her weapons down.

She wondered how long she had been out for, when she stood her legs shook and her balance was momentarily askew as her blood tried to circulate regularly and her muscles to cooperate. She knew that physically she had made a full recovery, but after exerting that much of her powers, it would take months to build it backup to that capacity. Being able to drill that deep into them in the short amount of time that she did was dangerous, not only that but forcing herself to contain it all until the time of that battle was exceedingly difficult. It was unlikely that she would do that to herself again, she was comfortable with the level of power she maintained on a daily basis which to her was still an exuberant amount. So she considered herself to be back in peak condition, both physically and energy wise, her mental stability was still to be decided.

Finally, she was ready to exit the tent and greet the day. On still shaky legs, she warily lifted the flap to the entrance of the tent and squinted against the harsh morning light, but her eyes adjusted quickly. Crisp autumn air bit at her skin before her inner flame warmed her to the environment, she had been left a clean set of boots and a coat as well, but she took no notice of them. Her body was a natural furnace and she was fully capable of keeping herself warm, as well as several others if she felt like exerting herself. She took a deep breath of the fresh air, she could not recall the last time her lungs were not filled with the polluted air of Angband, if she were any other race but her own, she doubted she would have survived as long as she had. It seemed that the lands of Morgoth were so heinous that any other breed other than those made in those lands would fade and wither. 

She stood just a step from her tent, relishing the small feelings of peace that seemed so monumental after missing out on them for so long. The grass beneath her feet was indeed still soft, but covered in a cool dew, birds sang in the trees pleasantly, accosting the morning, and the camp of elves was slowly beginning their day as well. She could smell something cooking- her heightened senses placed it a bit farther from where she was stationed. She had been placed far on the edge of the camp, and her tent was the smallest surrounded by larger tents that did not seem like ones for normal soldiers. It made sense that they would keep her far from the normal soldiers, it would be irresponsible to leave her around others that could not defend themselves against her if she was to be hostile. She wondered if they had realized that even their strongest and most valiant warriors were unlikely to survive in a fight against her flames? There are not many effective weapons that could be used against a raging wildfire. 

Turning toward the smell of cooking food, she followed the trail encouraged by the rumbling in her belly. Her thoughts momentarily lingered on the two elves that had been entrusted with taking her back to her tent. Why hadn’t they been guarding it for when she woke? She was not keen on the idea of being watched anyways, so she would continue on her path, trying to suppress the anxiety that came with exerting her new freedom. As she got closer, she noticed others walking on the other side of the tent she passed moving closer to the center of the camp, heard conversations in the foreign languages around her. Some of them were surprisingly light-hearted, it had been a lifetime since she heard someone's laugh be of happiness rather than malice. When she came to the source of the food, she paused, keeping behind a tent that was the last before an opening was made for a rather large seating area. A clearing in the center of the camp had been made for gathering and meals, a kitchen had been set in a large, open tent where there were benches and tables set, some had been moved into the open so that the elves could enjoy the last of the warm sun. Several fire pits were dug in the clearing, now only ashes, but she assumed that they would be lit again at night to keep the occupants warm and give them some place to gather rather than having them all isolated in their tents. 

There were many lingering around, some with food, some without and others with empty plates, sitting and conversing with those around them. Her pointed ears twitched as a sweet tune began to play, her eyes snapped to a familiar elf who had took to leaning against a post close to her. Ecthelion played a soft melody on a silver flute, her heart fluttered, though her nerves settled, how could she have forgotten the beauty of music? Even something so simple as the theme a lone pipe was nearly overwhelming, there would be much that she would have to be accustomed to. 

“Mára arinya, Anariel.” (Good morning, Anariel)

She nearly jumped out of her skin, a few yards away another surprised yelp came from the kitchens as a cooking flame jumped along with her. Odd side effects of her powers included the reaction of flames around her to her moods. She was so focused on the sounds of the flute, and the details of her surroundings, she did not hear the elf that had been following her from his own tent. Her ember eyes narrowed on the golden haired elf that came up on her, Glorfindel smiled pleasantly at her. So she was being watched after all, it should not have been as much of a surprise as she felt it was, she tried not to let her disappointment show. 

'I shall translate for you for now, but you must learn Quenya quickly before I tire of being your teacher.' Feanor’s voice returned to her mind, not as soft as it was in greeting her when she woke, but back to its normal tone.

'It isn’t like you have anything better to do.' She thought, mentally rolling her eyes. 'How would I say, “feed me before I die of starvation?” I’m literally dying.'

'Your wit will be the end of both of us child.' Feanor was often exasperated by the tones and speech patterns her own language came with, along with features such as her references, heavy sarcasm and dark humor. She was surprised he bothered at all with her, 'they do not know I am assisting you, therefore it would be wise if you kept what you did say simple. This is what you should say…'

“I am hungry.” she willed the words to roll from her lips the way the Feanor pronounced them in her mind, turning her attention away from Glorfindel to the line that waited for a tray of breakfast.

He was pleasantly surprised to hear her speak in his language, looking to Ecthelion who had put his flute down, “she should not be allowed to mingle with the soldiers quite yet, they are still quite tense from battle.”

Glorfindel nodded and motioned to her as he spoke, “Stay here,” he pointed to her and where she stood, “I will get you food.” He then pointed from his chest to the food.

She expressed her understanding with a smile, though internally she dreaded what she knew would be a long time of being escorted, supervised and treated like a child. However she felt elated that even though this would all be true, she would no longer be degraded, treated as a slave and used so...thoroughly. Her heart was conflicted, still not as free as she had initially longed for, but at least she was no longer a prisoner for a tyrant, but rather more of a ward of a people who would help her learn to live in a world so different from her own. She could learn to be happy with that, right?

Cautiously, she came around the corner of the tent she hid behind and came to sit on a bench far from the others, and closer to Ecthelion’s post. He did not stop her from doing so, but kept an eye on her as he continued to play a light morning tune for the gathering elves. She watched as Glorfindel went to stand in line with the others, conversing with them in a friendly manner, treating them all as if they were dear friends. A few weary glances were sent her way, but he was quick to draw their attention back, more than likely telling them not to worry and that she would not be harming them. Still, the elves remained slightly tense around her, she did her best not to exert the same energy, being just as nervous surrounded by unfamiliar faces. 

A few minutes later Glorfindel came to sit across from her at the bench, two trays of food in hand, along with a glass of water balancing on each tray. He put one in front of her without spilling a drop, the grace of elves would always amaze her, perhaps it was with practiced movements that came easily after endless years of immortal life. She looked down to the tray, not expecting much for a battle camp, but she was pleasantly surprised when the rich smell of bacon, eggs and potatoes filled her senses. She always took elves as vegetarians, but she was glad she was wrong. It took all of her composure to not scarf it all down right away, but to look back to Glorfindel and mutter a thank you, this time using Sindarin, the tongue of the elven slaves. Feanor was not willing to teach her how to say it in their dialect, 'why should you be thankful for being given something necessary?'

'I’m trying to be polite.' She ignored his arrogance, turning to her food.

Glorfindel smiled at her, “Of course, eat your fill, there are many things that must be accomplished today, you will need your strength.” he spoke as if she would understand. Feanor scoffed at him.

She did not wait for a reply before taking the utensils provided and digging in, cutting open the fried egg crudely and stabbing it with a fork, adding on a scoop of potatoes and bacon as well. She closed her eyes and tried to hold back a moan as the rich flavor burst in her mouth. Decent food was another commodity she was not often given as Morgoth’s tool, she was often given bland meals and murky water. Only as a rare reward would she be allowed to eat the scraps of delectable meals provided for her master… She barely chewed before swallowing and welcoming another mouthful, gleefully smiling up to the sky, kicking her feet happily and sending a silent praise to whatever god or goddess was listening. The elves around her watched curiously, to them, it was just another meal, hardly anything to take such pleasure in, and as adorable as this reaction was, Ecthelion and Glorfindel felt a small amount of pity. If such a small thing as decent warm food was delectable to her, what experiences did she have that set the bar so low?

When she had finished her plate and drank down her water, Glorfindel was still picking at his food, having finished off the bacon, but let his eggs and what was left of his potatoes grow cold, “Would you like the rest of my plate as well?”

“She does not understand you-” Ecthelion started, sounding slightly exasperated, but was quickly cut off by a newcomer.

“Glorfindel has the correct idea to speak to her this way, it could help her learn faster if she is not treated like an infant.” Her attention shot up from the food on the blonds plate, meeting the same pair of steel grey eyes she had connected with on the battlefield. 

His stare was...unnerving to her, as if within the seconds of eye contact he had reached into her being and learned all there was to know about her. But she could not read him, his features were stoic and when she let her fea tentatively reach out to his, she was met with a frigid wall, he had closed himself off. Whether he knew of her exploratory reach, she was unable to tell that either, he did not flinch or back down in his gaze. She could not break free of his focus despite how he put her on edge, there was something familiar to him, though she could not quite place it. 

Feanor’s spirit sparked within her, warming her own with his overwhelming emotions of joy, affection and love, the first time she had ever felt such strong positive emotions from him. 'Mime seldo- my son! Neylo-' Visions flashed through her minds eye, memories coming from Feanor of the imposing elf that stood before her. A rare occurrence when his soul felt so strongly his own consciousness overwhelmed her, showing her bits and pieces from his own life as they replayed to him. An infant cradled in his arms, with a tuft of auburn hair so much like Nerdanel but grey eyes just like his own, he felt as if his chest would burst from pride and love. In a blink the scene changed, the child was older now, and holding another infant and looked completely entranced with his younger brother. Soon the red headed child took the form of a young man and had many siblings surrounding him, a happy grin lit up his face as they played together. He had grown up fair and his mother had given him a name to reflect that- Maitimo, “well shaped one” indeed, he had a handsome face, free of blemishes, save for a few well placed freckles from his time spent in the light of Laurelin and copper red hair that cascaded down his back, too silken to even stay in a braid properly. 

'But what...what has happened to our Maitimo?' She felt the shift in Feanor as he saw through her eyes, the handsome male in his visions had changed before her. She would still consider him comely though, his once unblemished skin was now marred, several light scars crossed his face, the most prominent being over his left eye, leaving a deep gash from his brow down near his lip. She hid her (and Feanor’s) dismay when she scanned his body over, she noticed that the tip of his left ear had been cut off, and farther down his right hand had been completely amputated. Feanor’s joy turned into lamenting for his son, questioning what his oldest child had done to be scorned by fate so thoroughly. Not only had his rightful place as High King of the Noldor been taken by Nolofinwe, but his beauty had been tarnished, and the warmth that once filled his eyes had been replaced by cold indifference. But she still felt some sense of comradery in him, like her, he must have gone through tremendous pain and suffering to be changed so thoroughly. She began to feel more comfortable in the knowledge that maybe she was not alone in her experiences of cruelty. 

Maedhros was evaluating her as well, cataloging what he was able to gather from her appearance and her current attitude. She had been in a dead sleep for three days since her arrival, and because of this he had been unable to meet her acquaintance or more precisely, gotten a reading on her mental status. Nolofinwe was still apprehensive about how exactly she was to be treated, it would be an important decision and guide the path of both parties futures. Maedhros was the one appointed to the task, being both highly perceptive and trusted by the high king. But he had put his foot down at that, he would play no part in her education nor rehabilitation.

“We need to find out how much of our language as well as the tongue of our kin she has learned from the slaves of Morgoth.” Maedhros continued, not breaking eye contact with her. 

She was similar in shape to his race, but when he looked closely there were minor physical differences. Her ears were pointed as an elfs would be, but did not extend out as far, and her auricular muscles did not seem as responsive. Her eye color was unique, a deep brown that faded towards her pupil into brilliant amber that danced around like the embers of a fire, they were expressive making it easy for him to read her. In a matter of seconds he watched as they widened with the surprise of his arrival, evaluating his demeanor and whether it was cause for her to flee or fight, and then became relaxed when she decided he was not a threat. She had a sweet face and disposition, but more than likely it was a mask to fool others and possibly even herself into believing she would be fine. He knew better from personal experience that eventually the mask would fall and she would have to face the trauma it hid.

They watched each other, losing track of the silence between them which had not gone unnoticed by the others around them. Ecthelion cleared his throat subtly, “My Lord, does...does king Nolofinwe require her presence?”

Both parties snapped out of the trance that they were in, Maedhros turning suddenly, “Yes, promptly.”

The girl reacted suddenly, feeling loss at the broken connection and Feanor’s own spirit reached out to his son, “Nelyo-” 

He halted, turning his head to glare at her from over his shoulder, “...you are to call me Maedhros.” he turned again, not letting his confusion show, how she knew of his old name was something he would have to uncover later, the high king was waiting.

'Why would he abandon the names his mother and I gifted to him and change it to conform with an inferior language?' Feanor continued to lament, but she had to ignore him and rise quickly to follow the auburn haired elf lord, his stride was swift, and her legs had to double her pace to keep up. Ecthelion was on her tail, Glorfindel caught up a minute later after properly disposing of their breakfast trays, both keeping their curiosity of her knowledge to themselves as well. Elves moved out of their way promptly, watching with mild concern as they passed, making their way farther into the camp, toward a large blue tent with a large flag posted at the tents peak. Again her anxiety began to pick up, she had to gain control of her emotions, if she continued to let the negativity affect her, she knew she would not be granted the leeway she was hoping for. 

When Maedhros entered the tent he went to stand directly beside the king- Nolofinwe, who bowed his head slightly in recognition of the other. She sensed no hostility between the two males, she concluded quickly that Maedhros must have abdicated the throne Feanor was raving about willingly. 'Yes, but why? What fate had been so cruel that my eldest would relinquish his birthright?' Feanor began to simmer down, though still remained tense, unfortunately she was at his mercy to translate, and silently begged him not to let his temper get in the way of helping her. 

The table that had been in the center of the tent had been cleaned of maps and battle plans, and was bare, and the entourage of elves that had surrounded the king had shrunk. Even Ecthelion and Glorfindel remained outside, it was down to the king, Maedhros and her, as well as two other elves she did not recognize, one was very similar in appearance to Nolofinwe, and the other had finer features and blond hair. All held an air of authority and if she were in a jollier mood she would have some snark about the suffocating masculinity in the tent, but she remained somber with the weight of her captivity. 

“Greetings, Anariel.” The king spoke first, his tone just as pressing as it had been when they had met. “Take a seat.” 

Maedhros pulled a chair from the table motioning for her to take it, the others took a seat as well, Nolofinwe taking the head of the table, Maedhros to his left, the other dark haired elf to his right and the other across from where she was to be seated. She did as she was told, but remained tense not quite able to relax, and not having the will to put up any sort of front as she had before.

They introduced themselves in that manner, making Feanor scoff, Nolofinwe started, holding his hand to his chest, “I am Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor.” he pointed to his left, “this is my son, Turgon,” his son met her eyes and nodded in greeting, “and my nephew, Finrod,” the blond did the same in nodding, but smiled kindly as well. “And you met Maedhros, my first nephew.”

He kept the introductions simple, motioning to each of them, she glanced between them, 'Turukano, and the son of my youngest brother, Arafinwe- Findarato, they all call themselves by different names now.' Feanor said bitterly, 'conforming to the natives of this land rather than staying true to our own tongue.'

Their focus changed to her, expecting her to introduce herself as well, but she was at a loss. She had not been called by her name since before...before she was changed, she no longer felt connection to it and she was not who she had been when the name had belonged to her. She thought of what the elves had called her, Anariel, daughter of the sun, given to her because of the way she revealed her powers as the sun rose the day of the battle. That moment had been a crux in her life, when she had forsaken her role as Morgoth's tool and decided to fight for her freedom and escape his ruling. A much more fitting title for the person she had become.

She had waited so long to speak the elves wondered if she had understood what they had wanted, “I am...Anariel.”


	5. Chapter 5

She had chosen to adopt the name that had been given to her by the Eldar, an interesting choice, but one that Maedhros could sympathize with. He had chosen to change his name as well, conform it to his new life and leaving the other names he had been gifted in the past along with who he had been before he was hung by the wrist over the walls of Thangorodrim. He thought back to earlier when she had called for him by his name, the one now only his brothers used, how she had known that was beyond him but he did not let the curiosity bite at him, there would be another time to delve into the source of the knowledge she kept from them.

Maedhros looked to her again, she kept her face neutral but her leg bounced nervously and her fingers tugged at the curling ends of her long hair. He also watched the flames of the candelabra placed farther down the table. When she first arrived he was told the flames seemed to react to her- especially when Morgoth was brought up or she grew frustrated. This could also be a good gauge to her mood and possibly how much she actually understood. He decided to test his theory, and see if she would fall for the bait. 

“How will we be sure that she is no longer a slave to the Black Enemy? Can we be certain she is no longer under his influence?” he made sure to speak clearly and stress on the mention of slavery and his doubtful tone. The candle flared very slightly, and her knee stopped, no one else noticed. Interesting. 

Finrod spoke up, “surely roasting the majority of his army and fleeing is proof enough?” the blond gave his cousin a questioning look, it would appear to be obvious that Anariel did not approve of Morgoth’s hold on her.

“How can we be sure she does not have her own agenda then?” Turgon added, “that she will not burn us all on a whim?”

Fingolfin nodded, “I see your concern Turukano, however; she did not use her magic against us in battle, nor has she here. Considering this I strongly suspect that it is likely she will not harm us unless provoked.”

Again the candles flickered. Maedhros could feel her fea and the irritation radiating from it. Her lips pursed and eyes narrowed, she was growing tired of not being included in their conversation. And he was right, she was able to comprehend more than she initially let on. He wondered if the others noticed, Finrod caught his eye and gave him a quick, sharp look of understanding, he knew. The king and his son were unaware it seemed, debating between themselves. She must have had a reason for keeping her mouth shut, though Maedhros could practically feel how badly she wanted to speak up on her own behalf. Her persistence in her silence was impressive, he would think that her intentions were malicious as Turgon had mentioned a moment earlier if it were not for the gut feeling. 

“We could attempt Ósanwe as a way to communicate with her,” Finrod spoke again, his soft green eyes narrowed on her curiously, though there was no malice. 

Fingolfin pondered this option for a moment, “Ósanwe is an...intimate method of communication, do you have faith she would be susceptible to it?”

Maedhros continued to monitor her fea, sensing her trepidation, how could she be apprehensive if she did not have a grasp of what they were speaking of? Especially when speaking of a form of communication only known to the elves? “It will be beneficial to know her true intentions.” he agreed with Finrod’s suggestion.

“She is not quite like our kind, I cannot promise it will work,” Finrod spoke to his cousin, rather than his king “and if it does there is no guaranteeing whether her reaction to such an invasive route will be...impassive.”

“You are the most gifted at this cousin,” Turgon agreed with Maedhros, believing this to be the best course of action, “if the king would permit it.”

Fingolfin did not speak, but nodded his approval, hiding his concern of the outcome. Finrod smiled again at the girl that sat across from him, “Anariel, gaze into my eyes,” he had little doubt she knew what he was saying, but for the sake of whatever game she was executing, he played along. He pointed between his eyes and her own. Anariel was defeated, and sunk in her chair, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest, giving Finrod her best ‘get it over with’ glare, but did not flee or grow aggressive. The candlelight remained steady, the cousins presumed that she was willing, but not happy about it. 

When she opened herself up to him, her body lost its tension, and it was clear she was open to his attempt at communication. The tent was silent as Finrod concentrated on creating a connection between their minds, the energy was palpable, his eyebrows furrowed together slightly. After what felt like several minutes passed, and Maedhros began to feel restless, and ready to call the experiment a bust, something finally happened. The others nearly jumped out of their skin when Anariel gasped suddenly, the flame of the candles erupted in a flash before going out completely. They looked between the elf and the sorceress, the connection had been made, Finrods green eyes widened and his pupils blown, and the embers in her eyes danced. Her pulse quickened and a thin layer of sweat began to cover her body, the temperature around them rose as well. The connection was made, and was intense, much more so than normal Ósanwe.

“She has no ill intentions toward us,” Finrod spoke softly, but not break eye contact, “all she wanted was to escape him- she did not think of what would happen next.”

“Will she take our offer for assistance?” Fingolfin asked.

“She does not want to be imprisoned again, by elf or dark lord, she’d kill herself before allowing herself to be used as she had been.” Finrod’s expression filled with pity.

Fingolfin’s eyes darting between the two, concern on his face as tears began to fall out of her eyes, and then Finrod’s. Sometimes the bond could grow to harmful if one of the parties did not know how to filter their thoughts and feelings. The elves foolishly did not consider that her mind would not yet be clear of her trauma from Angband and if the memories were strong enough, Ósanwe could possibly draw them to the surface and trap them both.

“Cousin, you need to break the connection.” Maedhros prompted, reaching out to feel Anariel’s fea for the third time, feeling her emotions rise and could practically hear her calling out for help as she was unable to escape her own mind.

“He tore her apart and remade her into someone she does not recognize-” Finrod muttered,“He...he was so cruel…killing her friends, and turning the remaining ones against her.” 

“Findarato, snap out of it!” Turgon placed his hand on Finrod’s shoulder, but pulled it away with a hiss, Finrods body was as hot as her own.

“I cannot leave her in these memories!” he managed to speak to them, but was quickly drawn back, “Her flames could not protect her from him, he could reach right through them, torture her as he wished-”

Maedhros had to back away as well, fighting off the memories of Angband her distress brought to him. He took a deep breath, bringing a more soothing thought to mind and forcing himself to calm himself. The temperature continued to climb and sparks danced around Anariels fists as they clenched and unclenched, her tears sizzled as they fell on the cool tabletop “lead her to a happy memory!” Maybe this would bring them both down enough to break the bond. 

“I-it is difficult to find one, she had been his captive for so long, it is hard for her to remember them.” Finrod clenched his jaw, “the first time she felt joy in what felt like eons was...when we found her in that clearing, in that pond. The water was so cool against her skin, it purified her, she could breathe.” he grew quiet, as if he found a way to lead her back to a calmer state of mind. “She saw beauty in life again...Anariel, we can show you so much more. Would you like to see?”

The girl whimpered and spoke in her native tongue, only Finrod understood through their link, he smiled and reached out to her, his palms up and open. She reached out for him tentatively, her fingertips barely grazing his own before eventually her palms settled in his. She was smaller than the elves, deceivingly delicate, until you see her in battle and saw how hard she fought and durable she was. Slowly, the temperature began to drop again, the others in the room remained tense though. Maedhros watched as her tears quickly dried and her lips turned up slightly, gracing her features as Finrod quietly showed her whatever it was that was helping to calm her down. Her fea began to even out again, and no longer cried in pain but there was still a deep longing within her spirit.

“She is willing to stay and learn from us,” Finrod stroked his thumb over her knuckles, “But under no circumstances is she to be treated like a captive, she is not a born warrior and refuses to become a weapon for anyone else.” he paused, listening to her thoughts, and chuckled, “She is confident in her ability to ‘light all of our pretty asses up like a pile of matches’ if that is what we chose to do, but she does not want to hurt anyone.” Her attitude came up in Finrod's translation of her thoughts, he let go of her hand and blinked, breaking the link between the two of them.

Fingolfin’s face was solemn, not quite the outcome he had hoped for, but one he would accept, “Very well, Anariel, you are Elesser, you have our friendship and protection until fate leads you elsewhere.”

“If you would allow me King Nolofinwe, I would like to have the honor of teaching our guest the proper languages she needs.” Finrod spoke up, breaking eye contact with the fire wielder, finally, “I believe the Ósanwe was able to form an easier way of communication between us and would make the process faster and more efficient.”

Maedhros lifted a brow, “are you sure this will be for her benefit and not to sate your own curiosity?” he jabbed at his cousin’s anthropology compulsion, though he kept a light tone, trying to lift the mood and be sure the girl would be in good hands.

“My intentions are proper I assure you, Cousin!” he held his hand over his heart and bowed his head in promise, “if you would rather though, I will relinquish the job to you.”

“You have my blessings.” 

*****

Maedhros and Finrod exited the tent, letting the king and his son have the privacy to speak between one another, Anariel excused herself minutes before, requesting to go on a walk in basic Sindarin. Soon Turgon and his troops would be leaving, but the two soldiers, Ecthelion and Glorfindel had been favored by the king to stay as Anariel’s guards. They would not treat her as a captive, however, until she is more accustomed to elves and can properly communicate and express herself to them, the two were to assist her. The King and his council also concerned of her attracting unwanted attention or disdain from those elves that knew her as a servant of Morgoth and what their reactions to her would be. Finrod would stay within Nolofinwe’s encampment as it was packed and prepared to disband, and in that time he was certain any language barriers between them would dissolve. The Ósanwe bond would help, and he was able to find out that she did know more than she was being open about, though he did not know how.

“It was odd, Nelyo,” Finrod spoke once they were out of hearing range of the tent, “I felt there was another presence lingering in her mind, familiar and benevolent, but as soon as the connection was solidified it was gone. As if her and this...thing were separate entities- two different minds living in one body. I believe whatever spirit resides in her is the one helping, when it was just the two of us I could only understand her thoughts because we were melded. Her native language is strange.” 

“And you were sure it was not of Morgoth’s doing?” Maedhros felt strangely aware that there was not an ounce of Morgoth’s evilness within the girl, other than the memories that haunt her. He had to ask though, just to be sure.

“It would have gone a lot worse, I believe, if it were him in there. The things that were revealed to me,” Finrod hesitated, “she will also require help rehabilitating, and I do not think that it will be easy, or that I can do much to help.”

“A shoulder to cry on and a friendly face can go far in healing trauma,” Maedhros felt sympathy for her, but would not be roped into doing more than offering advice. “But ultimately, she has to heal herself. I doubt there will ever come a day where her scars are gone completely, but maybe a time will come when they do not ache as harshly or as often.”

*****

Anariel could not stand one more second in the confines of that tent, it was as if the walls around her were shrinking and the sounds of the elves voices amplified. Her head pounded with the rhythm of her heartbeat and her nerves were shot and she could not stop her shivering. She could still feel the lingering essence of the elf she let in her mind, much different than how Feanor felt like an existing part of her, or even the painful intrusiveness of the Dark Lord. Finrod eased into her mind like a cool breeze on a summer day, his mind coaxing the walls of her mind to open to him, and once she figured out how to let him in, the link between her and Feanor was gone. The spirit was still simmering about it, not fond of the idea to begin with having weighed the risk of the process called Ósanwe, and deeming it unnecessarily intrusive. 

'You were naive to think that would be a remotely good idea, child, you deserve the migraine brought on by your own stupidity.' Feanor scolded her, he was the reason it took so long to make the connection by arguing with her. 

'I got my point across didn’t I? Especially since you weren’t going to help me translate properly.' Anariel snapped back, he wanted her to play dumb and would not give her the proper wording to explain herself. 'They are just as willing to help me now as they would be if I didn’t use Ósanwe.'

'The soft hearted fools would have assisted you either way! Their pity for your trauma could now hinder you in the future if they deem you ‘unfit’ to be left on your own. All so you could make it ‘easier’ for yourself now.' She hated that he had a point.

'It doesn’t matter now. I showed Finrod what to expect if they tried to keep me captive. I will not be a slave again.' Anariel ended the conversation, pushing Feanor’s spirit into the recesses of her mind.

When she stood up and pointed to the door, digging around for the proper wording for ‘walk’, she surprisingly did not get reprimanded. No one followed her when she left the tent, though she heard Fingolfin give an order to the two out front, to follow at a distance in case she needed assistance. She would be given space, but it seemed she would still have guides for a while within the camp, at least until she could find her way around and all the soldiers were not so timid around her. She ignored them as she walked towards a pathway through the camp, and followed it until it lead into the woods. 

For her entire march she went uninterrupted, Glorfindel and Ecthelion followed a few yards behind, but did not stop her. As her anxiety slowly cooled, her attention was brought out from focusing inwardly to observe her surroundings. She was following a narrow path through the autumn woods, oak leaves were beginning to turn different shades of orange and the sun had risen to its midday peak. Her breathing became more steady, and the flames that had been ready to burst settled as she walked, her eyes darting between the changing leaves and foliage to the clear blue sky. The closeness of the trees did not bother her like the confounding tent and camp did, she was glad that she had been allowed to do this- that the elves did not chain her down. As long as they did not infringe on her newly found freedom, she would stay with them, absorb all that they would teach her and hope it would help her when she was confident enough to set out on her own.

Maybe then she could find her friends, the ones who managed to escape as she did. Memories flooded her mind as she stumbled through the forest, the foliage was no different than that of her homeland. If she let her mind wander, it was almost as if she were there again, the sound of familiar voices whispered through the wind as it rustled the leaves, she heard the laughter and felt the joy of it. But no matter how far she wandered, how close the voices seemed to get, they were out of reach. She feared that they would always be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought of the use of Osanwe, it's a newer thing to me and I hope you liked it. I will continue to post one or two chapters on Sundays depending on how well this story is recieved :D


	6. Chapter 6

Learning a new language is difficult, especially one as complex as Quenya, it did not help that her teacher was not fluent in her tongue, and Feanor is not as helpful of a translator as she had hoped. However Feanor’s assistance was better than none at all, even if he was temperamental, and Finrod had a knack for languages, learning and teaching them as well as an ostensible amount of patience. Her own language was so different than Quenya that she felt as if she had to relearn how to use her mouth tongue and throat to learn the language as well. In the beginning, they had to use Osanwe the majority of the time, and it turns out this was the same method Morgoth would use to get into her head, and this is why her sour memories were triggered. 

“Are you ready to begin?” Finrod sat across from Anariel at one of the open tables in the center of the camp, another warm autumn day that neither wanted to waste in a tent.

She glanced around nervously, elves wandered from their various stations but many had already disbanded to go back to their homes, and none bothered watching her as they did her first week in their camp, “Okay.”

She took a deep breath and nodded, relaxing her body and mind the way she learned was best, and felt Feanor try to help soothe her nerves, a truly rare occurrence. Finrod’s mind brushed against hers enticingly, unlike Morgoth’s cold and sharp talons that ripped into her mind without thought of barriers, his presence was like a gentle knock politely asking for entrance. She let the gate open ever so slightly, letting him in hesitantly, and once the connection was made she felt their energies mingle. Even with such a smooth transition into Osanwe, her trauma was still triggered by his presence, she tried to fight it this time, and not let herself be swept into her past.

She held a flaming fist an inch from her friends face, his arms were pinned beneath her legs and fear shone in his eyes. She hesitated, she did not want to hurt him, this was a game to Melkor, and she would not give him the satisfaction that he desired. 

“You have the upper hand, take your victory.” the Vala said expectantly, a dark, amused glimmer danced in his eyes.

She willed the flames to disappear, refusing to gratify him. She would not hurt her friends, no matter the consequences, no matter the circumstance, they were in this together and could rely on one another. She hoped the resolve she felt in her heart was visible in her hard glare as she stood from where she had pinned will, reaching out a hand to help him stand as well. Whatever fear that he felt vanished as he took her hand firmly, and stood next to her, trying his best to stand beside her and not shrink away as Melkor’s face began to show the anger he had felt earlier was returning.

“Fine, then let today be the day you learn what happens when you disobey.” Melkor did not even have to move as Mairon reached to his side, a sadistic smile on his face as he took hold of something they stupidly did not notice before, “twenty lashes. Boy-” he made eye contact with her friend, “since you were the one defeated and not given the honor of death, you will be allowed to deliver the punishment.”

She hated the whip, it was tipped in iron which drew so much blood, it caused her wounds heal slowly, and her skin to scar. Her screams flooded her mind as the scene unfolded before her, the first time she was whipped and her friend was forced to deal the punishment. She learned that day that defying Melkor came with heavy consequences, she was ashamed looking back and realizing what all she did in order to avoid his wrath. She felt ice cold fingers running along her back, tracing her scars, the scene changed and she was laying on black silk sheets. She hated the feeling of the fabric on her skin, it only meant bittersweet torment at the hands of her master. 

“Anariel.”

She fought the tears that pooled in her eyes- he hated it when she would cry-

“Anariel, look at me.” the voice that echoed in the darkness was not his, but belonged to another.

She blinked, daring to tear her eyes away from the comforting dance of the flames in the fireplace. When she did, the scene in her mind changed again, the darkness gave way to a soft light, the silken sheets turned to long grass, and stars twinkled above her. She curled her fingers in the grass and took a deep breath, the stench of Angband was replaced with the faint smell of flower blossoms. This was not a memory of her own, but still she felt a sense of familiarity, it was like the one he had shown her before.

“Finrod.”

Anariel blinked again, this time landing back in reality, Finrod deep green eyes bore into her but held no malice, and a wary smile graced his fine features, “are you back with me?”

She hesitated, not 100% certain that she was but figured if this was an illusion and she was still in Angband, she would rather play along with it as long as Melkor allowed rather than wake to be tormented. “Y-yes.”

The elf in front of her did not seem confident in her answer, but he nodded, “let us begin.”

Feanor was quick to remind Anariel that she accepted the Osanwe anytime she complained of a headache or foul dreams brought on by mind melding. But she had to push past these triggers in order to learn, and the faster she did so, the faster she could leave. Finrod was able to find a solution to her trigger, as good as one could be- although it was not typical of an elf to force images into another's mind, as soon as he made the bridge between their minds, he showed her visions of what he thought she would find pleasant. A walk along the shores of Aman, a vision of the gardens of his old home, her favorite being the lights of the trees as they faded into one another. 

Finrod struggled at first too, he was not free of bitter memories himself, crossing the grinding ice had taken its toll on he and his siblings; but her memories were hard to see. His empathic abilities were higher than most other elves and he was basically living through the trauma of her memories with her. It was a difficult process, often times after their sessions, he would keep her company through supper as well and offered her wine, having a good portion himself. He would let her ramble in her native language when the wine turned out to be too strong, finding it entertaining to watch her exaggerations and expressive face. Soon began to comprehend her faster than she learned Quenya, but the Eldar were highly talented with vocabulary and he did not hold it against her. Infact, he found himself keeping his full awareness hidden not out of malice, but simply because he enjoyed hearing her stories. Though they had a mental link, hearing her freely telling stories of those she loved and missed made the trauma they revisited together more tolerable. He did not want her to stop gushing to him just because she felt embarrassed or ashamed of doing so.

Occasionally Maedhros would join them for their supper, asking about her progress and feeling her fea for any changes. He was concerned about the effects the Osanwe was having on her mental status, if it made her worse it may hinder her progress. Fingolfin had asked him to keep an eye on her to see if there was any chance of swaying her to their cause and it would be unlikely if her spirits did not heal. 

Anariel eventually began to enjoy their lessons as well when they began to move away Osanwe, and occasionally even had fun. Especially when it came to learning phrases and words that may have been considered indecent. It started by accident, three weeks into their lessons, they were more comfortable with her abilities to speak and comprehend Quenya and moved into reading and writing. She did not enjoy these lessons, the elven alphabet to her was overly complicated and intricate and so much different than her own. Finrod was summoned elsewhere and had promised to return, requesting she finished writing the sentences he had made as an example for her. Feanor’s spirit had also regained its strength, and to her annoyance he began to project and give himself anatomy, though only she could hear him. Most times he would just sit back and listen to the lessons Finrod would give her and add his own opinions or suggestions.

“Your penmanship is horrid, an elfing could do better.” he appeared over her shoulder as she tried to copy Finrods sentences.

The quick onyx goblin jumps over the lazy dwarf.

“Fuck! I’m doing my best, okay?” she muttered in her own language.

“You are doing fine.” Finrod replied in Quenya, entering the tent and startling her, “You are holding the pen too tight. Your movements need to be more fluid. Let me help you.”

He leaned over where she was sitting and adjusted her grip with gentle hands and walked her through the motions of writing the sentence. Feanor was forced to move across the table watching with a look of disdain, scoffing and rolling his eyes, “a shameless flirt.”

Anariel ignored him.

“Can we work on speech instead?” she questioned, “I’m much better at it.”

Between Feanor’s translating and constant corrections and Finrods patience and apt for language, on top of whatever Morgoth’s transformation had done to her mind, she had been able to learn rather quickly. Though she still struggled to find certain words that fit what she wanted to express. Mainly foul language.

Finrod chuckled, “very well, what does that word you said earlier mean? ‘Fuck’?”

She blinked, staring at him for a solid moment then guffawed, “I, uh, it means…” she tried to use Quenya as best as she could to define the word for him, “um, it is a bad word. It can be a verb or interjection.” 

He lifted a brow and continued to smile, “what does it mean?”

“Um...well, it can mean…” he actually had not taught her the words she needed in order to describe this one, “ ‘to make children.’” her face began to redden, she made a vulgar motion with her hands, he burst into laughter, and she did her best to keep her cool. “Or...just like...oh wow?”

Finrod indulged her and taught her a few choice words of his language as well, Feanor disappeared, having enough of this apparently. There were quite a few times that this happened, Finrod and Anariel were quick to become friends and she was grateful for her luck. She was still rather wary of the elves, but she trusted Finrod more than most, possibly because of the bond created between them via Osanwe but it seemed that he was genuinely a decent person. They continued to chat, teaching each other various phrases that were considered risque in their native language until supper time rolled around. 

“Okay, okay,” Anariel giggled, sipping some wine Finrod mustered up, “so you’re telling me that elves actually are not all stuck up snobs?”

“Believe it or not some of us have a sense of humor.” he grinned and sat back in his seat, looking over his shoulder as the last of the sunlight slipped through the tent’s opening flaps, “some.”

The setting suns rays caught on long auburn hair, the tall silhouette of Maedhros outlined by the orange ombre light, “starting on the wine a bit early today?” his face stoic, and his tone too serious for the lighthearted mood the others were in.

Anariel grinned, “would you like to join?” she held up her newly filled glass, catching his mood, but feeling in a rare, playful one herself, and not willing to let the pleasant feelings die down.

He raised a brow, still unamused, “no.”

“Come now cousin, relax with us.” Finrod gave him a dashing smile, “Anariel was just telling me a joke.”

“Uncle Nolo would like us to join him for dinner.” Maedhros entered the tent, taking the glasses from their hands with surprising kindness and recorking the wine, “I hope the two of you are sensible enough to behave at his table.”

Anariel pouted, “we were having such fun!”

Finrod sighed, standing from his seat, and offering her a hand, “do not fret, our time in the sun shall come again.”

Anariel caught Maedhros’ lips turn in a small smile before he led them out, “I am glad that you two are in such high spirits.”

Dinner with Fingolfin had become much more relaxed as Anariel grew used to the ones who sat at the table, and knew how to communicate with them, though she found some words still difficult or had a few that she did not know. Maedhros chose not to interact with her except when necessary, he was still healing from his own trauma and after witnessing what had happened with Finrod’s Osanwe experiment and the distress it caused him. He decided it was best, however he found himself joining Finrod and Anariel for supper more often than not. Just to check her progress, of course. Maybe even to possibly convince her to stay among the elves, Fingolfin still sought her as an ally. Every few days she would meet with the King, to update him on her developing skills with Quenya and occasionally he would ask her to demonstrate her abilities. Maedhros would join these meetings as well because his own song was made of ice and wind and if she were to lose control there was a small possibility he could choke her flames and protect the king. So as much as he intended to avoid her, it did not happen and he found himself in her company most evenings.

He could not deny his own curiosity of her, a trait of the Noldor that surely drove him, he wished to study her power and know more. She was constantly anxious the first couple of weeks, refusing to do more than light candles and create small fires. But as time went on and her confidence improved, she would light candles and campfires nonchalantly around the camp. The remaining elves were grateful for the help, though at first they were quite started when sundown would come and all the firepits lit without much kindling. Some would even thank her and continue to feed the flames through the night. 

Anariel held up her open palm, letting a soft orange fire envelope her hand, then willing the fire to shrink and loop around her fingers like a ribbon, “it does not burn me, temperatures hot or cold do not bother me, I found that I could touch molten metal without any issues.” she shivered at the memory, pushing the thought to the recesses of her mind, “ice slows me down but only for a few moments.”

The elves were enraptured but the display, and there dinners forgotten and pushed to the side, “what are your limits?” Maedhros asked, remembering the Dagor Aglareb how for hours her flames would spark around the battlefield, and the deep sleep she had fallen into afterwards.

“You saw my limits.” she seemed to read his thoughts, though truthfully did not truly know. Dagor Aglareb happened the way it did because she delved fast and deep into her powers, and she secretly wondered what would happen if she was given more time. She did not voice this, rather keeping it to herself, still not fully trusting the elves and their intentions. Maedhros did not believe her.

After dinner had been served and taken away, it was time for business, pleasantries turned more to probing questions on their guest and her abilities. They would ask about her progress and how she was coping, if there was more they could do to make her comfortable, Fingolfin had hoped that this would make her more willing to stay with the elves as time went on. She had had a hard life and it was obvious she needed somewhere safe and peaceful to feel right again, if the elves could offer this to her and gain her friendship perhaps she would be willing to defend them in the future and fight for the peace they were able to provide to her. Occasionally they would ask about her history, the never pressed too hard for information, however she knew they wanted to know as much as possible about Angband, it’s residents and their weapons and strengths. Talking about it was never easy, but the more content she felt around them, she was able to open up more freely.

Anariel paused her current explanation, her light show had drawn questions about how exactly it was that she got her powers. Fingolfin read her mood as dinner played out and deemed that night to be the one where an intriguing question would feasibly be answered. The wine before and during dinner were definitely enough to get her to feel more open. Maedhros’ energy reach out to her as she hesitated, he often did so, an exploratory touch to feel out her emotions. To see if they needed to halt the conversation in fear of triggering a dangerous laps in stability. Her fire was linked to her temperament and it was reasonable for them to be so cautious, she had gotten used to his fea brushing against her own. Though she still prefers the company of Finrod, there was something about the quiet strength Maedhros’ fea offered that eased her mind.

“You were saying, Anariel?” the King encouraged her to continue speaking with a smile, he understood it was a tender subject.

She chose to omit most of the story, for her own sake, she could not handle the thoughts. But she would prefer to just cry with Finrod about it later and hope he could understand her blubbering but she would not allow herself to appear so foolish and weak in front of them all. Since Fingolfin asked, she would give him the answers he desired, well, as much as she was willing to tell him.

“I have not always been…” she hesitated again, “like...this.” she motioned to herself, “I-I don’t know what I am anymore.” She admitted, doing her best not to break down. “My body is no longer as it was.”

“What do you mean by that?” The Eldar had heard rumors and speculation, mostly leaked down from the Valar and Maiar, of what exactly Morgoth was completely capable of. He could not create creatures of his own, however he could change and manipulate them to be to his liking.

“When he-” she could not even say his name, “changed me it felt like my body was being incinerated. Next time I looked into a mirror I was changed, my ears were pointed, my bones and muscles have been stretched and strengthened, and my senses had become 10 times sharper.”

In a blink she was back there- the bathroom of her gold gilded prison- staring at the stranger in the mirror. She had lost a lot of weight, her collarbone and jawline were more pronounced, her limbs longer but more dainty, she had muscle from the rigorous training she had been forced through, but still did not look healthy. Her face was still round and young looking but her hair had grown dull and brittle. Her eyes were the most notably changed even though they looked tired, they’re usual deep brown color had an ember glow around the pupils, and seemed to be hollow, void of any emotion. That and her pointed ears, different from the elves, she always imagined while playing Dungeons and Dragons that elves would have longer pointed ears like the ones she sports now. They were still pointed, but the way they extended horizontally from her face reminded her of some sort of animal. 

A cool touch brushed against her fea, pulling her back to reality before the memory became too painful to escape. She glanced at Maedhros thankfully, though he made no sign that he had done anything at all. “I don’t know what I am anymore.” she repeated ruefully.

“What were you before? An elf?” Fingolfin pressed, his desire to know more hindered his ability to read her reactions.

She fidgeted with her hair, it was quite a lot healthier now that she was being fed properly, and had grown from waist length down to her rear, “Not an elf. I had no such grace or beauty, and I was mortal.”

“Strange that you were altered so drastically, I did not know Morgoth had the powers to bestow immortality.” Finrod stared at the table, deep in thought as he tried to piece together what she was telling them with whatever memory fragments he could stand to remember that she showed him. “And you are certain of this change?”

“I-I am.” it had not been quite long enough to determine absolutely through time alone, however her very soul had been changed, she could not describe it well enough to bother but there now was a golden light within her, “I believe the amount of time spent in Angband was close to 5 years. That may not be a significant amount of time to Eldar but my kind aged much more rapidly. 5 years made a difference physically and mentally and I do not seem to have aged a day.”

“How old were you when...when Morgoth captured you?” Fingolfin asked.

“I was 25.” She could feel the shock in the air at her reveal and furrowed her brow, “is there something wrong with that?”

“You are so young!” Finrod exclaimed, feeling taken aback, to think he had let her practically get drunk and had even flirted with her, “you are a child!”

She chuckled as her bitter sense of humor showed itself, “I assure you I was an adult at least when I was taken.”

“She did say her kind mature much differently.” Maedhros spoke up, “Anariel, an elfling usually does not hit adulthood until well into their 100th year.”

Anariel furrowed her brow, “most of my race did not even live that long...and you all are a few hundred years old then?” The oldest of them she assumed was Fingolfin, though they all looked to be in there late 20’s or early 30’s, most in the camp had in fact seemed to settle within that range. Immortality was not an aspect she often explored when thinking of her fate, the weight of it settled heavily on her shoulders.

Their faces ranged from shock at her admission to intrigue, “All that are in this tent, other than you, are well over 2,000 years old.”

She blinked and thought again to her own race and people, the histories and civilizations that had risen and fallen- these elves could have witnessed it all. And now, she would be there as well, watching as time passed, the world changed and fate led its path, forever-or, at least until someone put her out of her misery. After how long would she learn all that there is to know? When will she have done everything that there is to do with a life and become stagnant? Would she ever grow bored of life and just chose to end it herself? 2,000 years just seemed like an eternity to her, compared to what she had expected her life to be before...before all of this she actually did not linger on her mortality either actually. She was young and the age of 100 was so long off that her mind did not ponder old age and death often. To the elves her lifespan was a blink of an eye. She began to understand why they were so shocked when she told them her age.

Again she blinked, trying to clear her head, “no wonder you all seem so prudish.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anariel and Maedhros have a moment, the Celegorm and Curufin ruin it

Outwardly she had improved immensely, her shyness was replaced with an extroverted friendliness and her defensive and coarse attitude simmered down into a mostly tolerable sass. She befriended those around her quickly, Glorfindel and Ecthelion were joined to her by the hip when she was not with Finrod. Even Fingolfin smiled at her quips at times and joined her for meals on occasion. But her fea still held anxiety and a looming depression she tried to fight off with playfulness. Ecthelion and Glorfindel still kept tabs on her, reporting to Fingolfin and Maedhros weekly. She did not sleep as often as she should have. Some nights she crept from the camp to visit that pond, others she would simply stay in her tent, trying to keep her misery quiet, but the Eldars' senses were sharp, and could hear her soft crying.

Some days she would regress, waking in a mood either foul or melancholy, these would often result in her skipping lessons and wandering the surrounding woods for a few hours. Maedhros sympathized with her on these days and bid others to let her be, no good would come if they persisted. She would come back on her own, and if she wanted someone to listen, those who had grown fond of her would if she asked. But she chose solitude as her comfort, and her boundaries were important to respect if they were ever to gain her trust fully. Finrod, who had grown close to the fire wielder took her moods to heart, wishing to follow her, but listened to his cousins advice as difficult as it was at times. He had been in her mind and witnessed the memories that haunted her. How could she stand to be left alone with them?

“Nelyo, I do not think it is wise to let her wallow in such dark thoughts. Should we not pursue her and offer our sentiments?” Finrod asked one day after hearing of her restlessness the night prior and her sudden departure from the breakfast table.

“It is difficult to speak of such traumatic memories, and if she does not seek comfort and goes as far as to isolate herself she likely requires her space. She knows that you will listen if she wishes to speak or needs your comfort.” He knew well the need for space, “be patient, recovery is a process and moments like this might appear to be a set back, but remember it was no more than 2 months ago she was still in that Hell. and it will take much longer for her to feel okay.”

Finrod nodded, “it hurts me to see someone with such a lovely spirit experience pain.”

Maedhros agreed, as much as he had tried to avoid her she was hard not to grow fond of, “her view of the world she was used to has been altered. Anariel is understandably frightened of life beyond Morgoth’s control and finds this new freedom as enticing as it is daunting. Her ability to trust is likely damaged, we must build it back again before she opens up to us completely.”

“How could we make this easier? Soon we will have to leave for our respective Keeps and I do not think she will be ready to be on her own.”

“The routines set for her will help, now that you no longer require Osanwe to communicate, her stress should lessen. We should begin planning for the future, what she intends to do, what we could offer her to help,” Maedhros caught himself too late by saying ‘we’. He liked Anariel and saw benefits in keeping her close, ultimately though her path was her own. “You are closest to her, and her trust in you is strong. Approach the matter with caution.” He left his cousin to ponder the matter. 

***

Anariel’s dreams often were a mess of memories from her previous life, and of her captivity. Occasionally they would be less terrifying or better yet, she would not dream at all. That is, if she were able to actually sleep. Most nights she would lay awake, afraid of opening her eyes again in her prison or worse, the arms of her captor. It did not help that her cot was quite uncomfortable, and her tent so small she felt claustrophobic and trapped. Many nights she would lie awake and stare at the tents pitched ceiling, her mind reeling and wishing for some sort of distraction. When she was in her own world, she slept peacefully, curled in a nest of pillows and blankets, with the hum of some documentary playing in the background and her cats cuddling into her. If she could not sleep, there was always tea to soothe her, supplements to take and books she could actually comprehend to read. 

Now when she could not manage to drift off, or woke from a dream, she would leave the elven camp to wander the woods. The cold nights did not bother her, the crisp air helped clear her mind and remind her of her freedom. The crunch of dead leaves beneath her feet and the subtle rustling of nocturnal creatures eased the anxiety in her mind. Her heightened senses were put to waste in Angband, all they cared about was her new physical strength and astonishing fire powers. But in the woods she learned there was so much more to her new body. Not only could she hear the padding feet of a fox making its way to its burrow, but sense its intention and feel it’s spirit. She could see in the darkest corners of the forest as well as she could in daylight. If she did not want to be tracked or heard she could easily make her steps silent and invisible. And if an obstacle was in her path, she could use her strength to lift it.

Her favorite thing to do was to climb the highest tree she could find and spend the night watching the stars. She would lounge on a thicker branch and watch as the stars slowly faded and the sun rose above the horizon, painting the skies in beautiful hues of indigo, orange and red. Her heart ached during her imprisonment, longing to see the sky beyond the clouds of ash and grey clouds, she was always trapped in darkness, and everything was bleak and grey. For the first time in years her heart felt true joy again, even in the cooling season of autumn the rising sun warmed her blood and bones and raised her spirits. She went so long believing that eventually she would waste away in Angband, and even if the Dark Lord did not take her life, he was sucking out her soul piece by piece and her life would be over. When her and Feanor finally saw a possible escape, it was hard to find the will to take it, however, even if it killed her, it was worth the risk. She convinced herself that she would rather die trying to gain her freedom and escape that hell than to remain his prisoner for any longer.

Seeing the sun, seeing the open sky and broad horizon truly cemented the fact that she had made it out, and she could be happy again. Or that she was dead, and her spirit was finally free and healing in the best way it knew how, by dreaming of benevolent beings rescuing her and taking her under their wing. Either way, in the mornings she would watch the sunrise and feel the weight of her torment ease for a while, and her soul dance with life again. When she finally would climb down from her perch and make her way back to the camp her body may have been tired, but her mind was ready to begin another day. To learn what she could of this new world so that she could go forward with her life rather than remain stagnant. 

Maedhros had a similar battle with insomnia, after decades of being a free elf he still fought off nightmares of his torture, and would wake in a cold sweat, his right arm raised over his head and a phantom limb tingling. Upon his rescue it had taken longer than he cared to admit to realize that his freedom was not just an illusion created by his cruel captor, that his brothers were real and not just Sauron in disguise. That Fingon was indeed truly the elf that he had fallen in love with back in his youth when the trees of Valinor still shone in all their glory and he had few cares or worries. Maedhros had pushed him away after realizing he was indeed in reality, knowing that he did not deserve the love that Fingon still held for him, not after he failed to stop his father in Losgar from burning the ships and abandoning the host of Fingolfin to suffer the grinding ice of the Helcaraxe. Not after he had been so foolish as to think he could outwit Morgoth the Deceiver and getting himself captured, and his men killed. Certainly not after he was defiled, tortured and treated so brutally that he no longer truly recognized his love. So there were many nights when Maedhros’ mind would not allow him to sleep and if he could not distract himself with paperwork or literature he would wander as well. 

His own camp was a distance from Fingolfins, so it was a surprise to see the glowing fire wielder high in a fir tree, basking in the sun's morning light. He knew of her wandering habits, but did not expect to see her so far from her own camp and never so...glorious. When she had appeared in battle she was a spectacle, as radiant as the dawn with wings of fire raising behind her in a grand gesture of her power and a halo of light circling her head. If she had fought on the side of the Great Enemy, it would have been enough of a distraction to possibly turn the tides of battle by itself, and if she would have unleashed herself upon the elves there was little doubt that he would be alive at that moment. He had felt the fear of his soldiers, even some of his brothers strong will faltered. However, when she turned and smited the orcs behind her, all despair vanished from the elven hearts and they rallied, despite not knowing the sorceress own intentions. 

When her eyes met his before the battle truly began he felt her for the first time, some Eru driven fate that connected them. He felt that connection pull anew as their eyes caught each other again, too stunned to move. In that moment as she glistened in the rays of the remaining light of Laurelin he was amazed and in awe of her beauty and power. He could hear her fea’s joyous song play in his mind, dancing with feathery lightness as hope washed over her and his own spirit sung in reply as he basked in the warmth of her brilliance it blew through the air like a breeze on the shoreline. He was reminded of the good and the light of the two trees, that thought it was taken and destroyed by dark evil only to be brought back in a different but still beautiful form. There was good still in this world, though his mind had difficulty finding it so very often, perhaps all he needed was a reminder. 

Their fea recognized one another, be it through Eru’s will or just in realization that they are similar in history, they did not know, but neither wanted to break the connection created. Anariels elation flowed through Maedhros, lightening his spirit, and he graciously accepted this, feeling lighter than he had in decades. In return Anariel felt his resilience to survive and the strength of his spirit wash through her, reinforcing her own so that she might stand tall and not crumble under the weight of her tragic past. The sun had moved well above the horizon when their trance broke, not out of shock or any harsh feelings, but simply because their fea had...healed each other. Not permanently, or in anyway fully, but just enough to make living more tolerable again, to make it easier to sleep without fear of waking up chained and to carry through their days with a little less gloom.

Anariel’s body and spirit felt buoyant and blissful, such as it has never felt before, even when she was happiest in her life. When she looked down to investigate the approaching footsteps and she saw Maedhros illuminated by the first light of the day her whole being seemed to freeze. His grey eyes were wide and in awe, whatever coldness they had melted away, and his red hair created a halo around him as the colors of the sky complemented his locks and complexion so perfectly. The soft wind of his fea brought her soothed the aching her memories and lack of sleep, easing her anxieties to a near cease, at least for a moment.

When they finally blinked and the sun was well into morning, neither had a grasp of what happened within that time, and neither had it in their hearts to speak and break the spell that even the forest honored with silence. Maedhros simply stood at the base of the tree, watching as Anariel descended from its branches, her grace allowing her to do so with ease, though when the branches grew more sparse toward the bottom, one snapped. He caught her quickly before she could land and hurt herself on the roots that littered the ground below, holding for a moment and savoring the warmth of her skin. She let him cradle her, feeling safe and secure in his arms for the first time in years, their fea still flowed around each other, though the intense connection was gone, the high was still there. Her fingers traced the lines of his scars, though she did not not see his memories, she now knew that his fate had been similar to hers, and she related to his hurt. He did not shun her touch as he had with others, she did not do it out of pity or curiosity but understanding. 

Neither Anariel nor Maedhros spoke, what had finally broken the quiet was the sound of a fast approaching animal. Maedhros quickly put her down, though his hand lingered on her shoulder, not quite wanting to let go. Both turned to look down the path they had taken to the tree to see a giant hound followed by two unfamiliar (at least to Anariel) elves coming their way. The dog reminded Anariel of a wolfhound, with long legs, grey fur and narrow face, it was the largest dog she had seen that was not a wolf. The elves following behind felt familiar as well, and this was when Feanor’s spirit awoke from the transe her own had pushed him into.

‘Curufinwe!’ , She looked upon the dark haired one, that was so similar to Feanor in appearance, it threw her off guard, the joy in Feanor's reaction and the similar name of his other son made it obvious to her who this was, ‘Turcafinwe!’ Did elves really have such little creativity when naming their children?

“Nelyo!” Turcafinwe called, more fair in hair color and complexion though more rugged than his brother, where Curufinwe had a sharpness to him, Turcafinwe was wild. “Where have you wondered off too? It has been hours!”

Maedhros still did not speak, still dazed and not able to properly answer. Anariel’s head began to spin as Feanor began to grow overwhelming, recollections of his sons played in her mind's eye as she tried to focus on what was going on.

Curufinwe’s voice was even similar to his father, “who is this?” he rose a dark brow at the girl standing so close to his older brother, and the hand that rested on her shoulder, “is this the fire wielding sorceress?”

Anariel jumped and was pulled from her stare at the brothers by a cool nose brushing the back of her hand as the hound sniffed her curiously. She gazed into the bright brown eyes that seemed to hint at a higher intelligence than a normal canine and smiled when she saw the kindness of a dogs soul shining within. He licked her hand and opened his mouth to pant, looking as if he were smiling back at her. She giggled, and felt her spirit jump yet again at the feeling she forgot about that came when she saw and pet an animal. It had been so long since she had the simple joy of an animal's company that she did not bother with anything but the hound. Not caring for any other in her presence or thought of the dogs master, she knelt in front of it, bringing both hands to scratch behind its ears and letting her fingers run through its coarse fur. Of course, the beast enjoyed the attention, leaning into her touch and after a while flopping down beside her so she had more access to his belly.

“Huan!” the dog perked its head towards the blond elf but did not move beyond that, “you scoundrel, are you growing soft?”

A chuckle sounded from her mind, ‘it appears he has.’ Feanor shared in her light mood.

“Such a good boy…” Anariel grinned and rubbed his belly, still ignoring the elves.

“Since when do you sneak off to walk the night with beautiful women?” Turcafinwe spoke again with a joking tone, still staring down his dog.

Maedhros cleared his throat, “I found her while I was headed back to the camp.” he did not sound as put together as he wished, raising more mischievous suspicion from his brothers.

“Ah, and I assume that it is just a coincidence that both your aura’s are shining so brightly and the fair elleth’s fea sings of bliss? Our poor cousin will be fraught with jealousy.” 

‘Curufinwe, crafty with words as well.’ Feanor commented. 

‘Shut up.’ Anariel snapped, feeling a blush spread across her cheeks, she was not sure why she felt as she did but it was not for the reason the brothers were implying. She got to her feet and brushed the dirt from her leggings, “I wandered too far from my camp last night, I apologize.”

“She speaks Quenya rather well,” Curufinwe raised a brow at her, “I thought you said she only knew basic Sindarin.”

“She’s a fast learner.” Anariel grew irritated with the condescending tone of the Feanor mini-me, though it was half hearted, her mood was still high from the encounter with Maedhros.

Turcafinwe bowed at the waist, “our apologies Fíriel -o nar.” (Woman of fire) “since you are so far from your camp, would you like to join ours for breakfast?”

She agreed, to the delight of the spirit that resided in her, and she welcomed the boisterous glee that came from him as they led her and Maedhros back to the camp. Maedhros stayed quiet, watching Anariel walk beside Huan with a new pep in her step and felt the same small bit of happiness she had, though he wondered how long it would last. It was obvious the connection between them had done something to them, and it benefited them both, but he was not certain on how to cope with that. 

“Now you can meet all of us!” Turcafinwe said enthusiastically, “Nelyo has refused to let us come introduce ourselves to you for some reason.”

“Brother, we have actually lacked proper introduction thus far.” Curufinwe stated, “you may call me Curufin, as the people of this land do.”

Anariel nodded in greeting, “nice to meet you, Curufin.” Feanor was appalled by his sons change in name.

“Celegorm.” His brother followed, again, Feanor was not pleased.

“A pleasure, Celegorm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think, I worked hard on this chapter and it hurt my brain a bit
> 
> I also did not have time to edit it a final time before posting


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celegorm's kind of a dick, Maedhros does not like being confused and Anariel wants to set fire to at least 3 of the 7 Feanorians

The camp was not too far off at all, only taking a few minutes to walk from the tree where she had sat in not long ago, and rather similar in setup as Fingolfins, though a bit smaller host wise, even as Fingolfin's soldiers were leaving. The soldiers of this camp were more wary of her, perhaps because she had yet to meet them, she tried not to let their stares dampen her spirits. Breakfast was held outdoors on a long bench and table, unlike Fingolfin’s who preferred to eat in private, and had much more red meat, including sausage and venison and a rowdier crowd. Much of the table was already full, and with one look at the ones stacking their plates, again Anariels mind was overwhelmed with Feanor reliving his past. She paused as she gazed upon the brothers, the picnic table was replaced by a solid mahogany, and the surrounding tents melted away and became dark wooden walls, pops of rich red and gold decorations, tapestries and portraits of various family members lined the wall. His family was seated at their table back in their estate in Aman, to her right she saw an elven woman with thick and bright red hair, a plaster of freckles graced her pretty face and cunning brown eyes. His love, Nerdanel, and his children, young and spritely reaching for various plates, some squabbling about who gets what first and others speaking fondly to the others of their days.

She was brought back to reality by the familiar cold brush of Maedhros before the others noticed her stand still, “let us hope they all behave with company present.” he muttered as he passed her, nudging his head towards the table, “I cannot promise they will not bite.”

Anariel smiled again, “very well, I will try not to set anything on fire.”

Anariel quickly discovered Maedhros was perhaps the most level headed of all his brothers, she supposed this was the consequence of being the eldest. Maglor was a close second, but she could still see a hint of mischief in his eyes when Amrod and Amras tried to convince her to roast Celegorm after he made another crude joke about what she and his brother had actually been up to in the woods. Caranthir snapped at them for being so indecent, so early in the day and initially she appreciated it. Until he commented on how she was likely warming the bed of Findarato. Curufin the crafty scoffed and proceeded to try and convince her that his brother would make a much more suitable mate.

“You know, our brother was supposed to inherit the title of King when our father died.” he brought up the fact casually, she already knew that much but raised her brows as if it were new, “I believe it would be quite a magnificent sight to see the two of you sitting upon the throne.”

Something familiar wiggled its way into her mind as she envisioned herself with a crown of fire, sitting beside Maedhros who had a matching crown and held her hand between the two thrones. Her heart fluttered at the idea, and an inner piece of herself she tried to keep buried clawed to the surface, craving the power and recognition the position held. It was not a part of the original her, and she was not sure if it was put there when Morgoth remade her, or a part of Feanor that melded to her soul when he became a part of her. She never craved such a title or power before, only wanting some recognition from those she cared about, never to such an extreme. She shook off the vision, and began to think realistically, Fingolfin was the king, Maedhros had no obvious desire to be, and as much as his brothers jested, she did not think Maedhros saw her in such a way. And she was in no way ready for such a commitment either, not so soon after Angband and what she had been forced to do within it’s keep. 

“Your offspring would be powerful,” Caranthir added, “physically and politically.”

‘They do have excellent points.’ Feanor pondered, ‘he would treat you kindly and his hroa is admirable.’ 

“I highly doubt you’d have to worry about heirs either, our family is extremely fertile.” Celegorm added, watching as Anariel grew more uncomfortable. 

The subject began to bring up memories she was not very fond of, sexual actions had not been much of a choice in the past few years of her life. She was ashamed of herself-of what she did in order to keep her master appeased, to keep her friends safe, even if they did not show her much gratitude for the lengths she went in order to provide that shelter from his wrath. And at times...at times she convinced herself that she actually enjoyed it- the way he used her- it made it easier to accept what at the time she could not change. She began to slowly fall into her own loop of vile thoughts and tried to shake away the shivers that crept up her spine, reaching for something, anything to pull her back out.

Feanor’s spirit brushed against her mind in a rare moment of tenderness, ‘you are not there anymore, no one will force you to do that again. Relax and enjoy yourself.’

“That is quite enough!” Maedhros’ glare was nearly enough to spark a fire of his own, her fea had begun to change from its previously lofty mood and he did not like that shift.

Though Anariels mind played with the idea with an odd amount of enthusiasm she blamed it on the endorphins from earlier. Maedhros was very handsome, though he normally had a colder demeanor than what she was usually attracted to. Part of her knew it was just a mask created in order to protect himself, she recalled when their fea was intertwined, no, he was not so naturally cold hearted. Her mind drifted as the brothers continued to bicker, imagining herself in his lap, wearing nothing but that fiery crown, writhing in the throes of passion. Their fae dancing together again, but to a different tone. An icy feeling rushed through her, forcing her out of her daydreams and a pointed cough from Maedhros made her startle and blush deeper than appropriate.

“Seems like our guest can appreciate the idea.” Celegorm smirked.

His smirk turned to shock and momentary panic when a sudden flash and woosh caught everyone's attention and his furs burst into flames. Anariel felt Maedhros’ irritation at his brothers meddling and her own frustration at herself and chose to direct that energy to proving a point. She would not be a push over even to such a boisterous crowd. Of course she maintained control, not actually allowing the flames to burn anything, as badly as she wanted to, she had to watch her temper, she did not want to ruin things with the elves over something so stupid. 

Amrod and Amras cheered, “amazing!” 

“Wonderful!” They applauded.

Curufin too close in proximity to not feel panic as well took a glass of water and threw it on his brother, who stood and began to strip off the furs, “fuck!”

Maglor began to laugh as the one flame was extinguished only for another to appear, Caranthir was the only one who did not find it entertaining.

She allowed the flame to die and stood, “unfortunately for you lot I am not looking for a mate at the moment.” She hid her embarrassment under a mask of confident sass, “however, a dueling partner would be sufficient.” She had been letting herself get rusty, she may not have wanted to be a warrior, but the physical exercise was a good way to work off anxious energy. And it was possible, it would tucker her out enough to where she could finally sleep without dreaming.

“Your flame is your only advantage, without it we could take you down easily.”

Anariel grinned, “Prove it.”

*****

The group moved out of the camps range to a small clearing not far off, Amrod and Amras went as a pair, inseparable from one another, as twins she expected as much. Caranthir went to retrieve his sword which he offered to lend her, Curufin and Celegorm even wandered off. Maedhros did not leave her side, though he kept his distance and remained silent, causing Anariel to slowly grow insecure in herself. The high of whatever it was that had happened to them earlier had receded leaving her feeling content, but only momentarily. It seemed like the Feanorians had a strange way of taking her emotions for a roller coaster ride, between their large personalities and her own timid nature it was hard to keep up her strong facade. 

Maedhros kept silent not due to anything Anariel had done, but rather in order to sort out his own feelings. He had began to come down from the whirlwind of positive emotions faster than she had, dealing with his brothers rambunctiousness was enough to do that. They were particularly unruly lately, spending such a long amount of time in one place with absolutely nothing to do was driving them wild. He understood why, they have never truly been a family to settle in one place for long, since he was a child his father had often taken him on many adventures across Aman, and the tradition continued as his brothers came along and grew up. Soon, he would have to start sending them back to their lands in the East, winter was approaching and it would make travel difficult. He had already given the order to send all non essential personnel back home, and Fingolfin would be doing the same. 

Before this morning he had wanted to remain for another week or so at maximum, he would be curious as to Anariels fate, but he would be willing to leave nonetheless. But now he could not bring himself to leave her side, even to change into new days clothing. He told himself it was because he did not want her to be uncomfortable with his brothers, but he did not quite fool himself well enough to believe it. Perhaps now that his fea recognized her and her trauma, he felt stronger because of mutual experiences, but he knew of it before, he could read her so easily from the moment they met. There was no logical explanation that satisfied him, so he pushed the frustration down and looked to her again.

She stood at least a foot and a half shorter than him, though he was rather tall, she was still shorter than an average elleth, there was nothing whatsoever imposing about her. Her face was heart shaped and sweet, and even when not smiling her resting face was soft and pleasant. Her hair was a deep chestnut, hues of gold and bronze came out when the sun hit her head just right or when she summoned the energy of her fire. She was more like a flower than a fighter. When walking to the meadow she did not at all seem like a warrior ready for training but rather someone looking for an output for energy. He would have to make sure his brothers restrained themselves, hopefully they would see through her mask as well and realize she just wanted to find peace of mind through the physical exercise and not challenge.

Her doe eyes quickly turned to him, as if to try and read him as well, it was more difficult for her to be subtle about it though when she had to crane her neck to see. She smiled at him hesitantly, “I-I…um…” she wanted to say something, to talk about whatever had happened or maybe just break the awkwardness she felt between them, but could not find the proper words.

“Celegorm would likely challenge you first,” he interrupted her stuttering, not quite wanting to talk about it, “he is a skilled fighter but can get cocky. Use it to your advantage.”

They began to near the meadow intended, and she could hear Amrod and Amras speaking to one another, though Amrod did most of the talking, being the (slightly) more outspoken of the two. Feanor had shown her that often Amras was the less likely of the two to have a mischievous idea, but would often join his brother in whatever hijinx ended up happening, mostly harmless pranks of their brothers and sometimes their cousins. She decided quickly that she liked them more than any of the other brothers- though Maglor and Maedhros the two oldest were not too bad. The middle three were more cocky and jerkish, she did not really appreciate it, but Feanor of course tried to convince her they were worth their good qualities too. Curufin had not only taken after him in the looks department, but in skills as well, he was crafty with words and metalwork in the forge and was a good strategist. Celegorm was a friend and follower of the Valar of hunting himself, Orome, and had been blessed with the ability to speak with all manner of beasts. Plus, he had a very lovely dog, who as it turns out was immortal as well and a special breed of Orome’s own hounds. Caranthir was harsh in temperament but was the best of them, other than Maedhros at political debates and philosophy if he could keep his cool and was a genius in economics. 

Secretly all she wanted out of this sparring was to be exhausted enough to fall asleep without being haunted by nightmares. Though it would be nice to at the same time prove that she was not one to be trifled with. Her skill in swordplay was definitely not on par with her fire power, but Morgoth forced the skill to improve beyond just mediocrity. She hoped it would be enough to distract her racing mind as well. She still was unsure of what the hell had happened between her and Maedhros, and Feanor was staying oddly quiet about it. It felt so different than the Osanwe she and Finrod practiced at, deeper than just their minds opening to one another. Where she and Finrod could speak mind to mind and share memories, this was different. She could feel Maedhros’ energy without even reaching out, as if he was an extra limb. She understood him at a deeper level than before, having felt his pain and scarred fea, and longed to share in in strength that allowed him to survive his trauma.

She wished to share her positive emotions in return, her hope for the future and resilience and determination to be happy again. Even if she had very little to give at the moment, and had to restrain herself and try and close herself off to him. When she turned to speak to him and he quickly avoided the subject, she withdrew into herself further, shrugging off his advice and going to chat with his brothers. It hurt her that she could feel his hesitation to approach the subject, and confused her as to why she suddenly cared so much about what he thought and felt. She was beginning to wish she had just stayed and cried in her tent rather than wandering the woods to find peace- but as the thought passed she quickly rebutted it. The peace she felt watching that sunset and the euphoria of their fea twining together was worth it, the memory of it even sparked a small bit of that ease to return.

“Nelyo says that your skill in battle was admirable.” Amras smiled at her from his place lounging in the grass, “what is your preferred weapon?”

“I like short swords best, but I also have skill with daggers and a bow.” she returned his smile, she wondered if Maedhros spoke about her often...and then she shoved that thought out of her mind.

“Do you hunt then?” Amrod asked excitedly.

“N-no, I was not…” she thought of the confining walls of Angband, “uh...I was not allowed to…”

“Hunting is not for everyone Ambarussa.” Maedhros interjected, his hand brushed her as he passed, his fea a cool breeze against her rising heat, as if to assure her of her own safety.

As irritated as she was with him, she felt grateful, and grew bothered with herself over being triggered so easily.

“Perhaps in the future we could teach you then?” Celegorm and Curufin stepped from the bushes with a sword in one hand, the other holding a quiver of arrows and a bow. 

“If she bothers to stay around.” Caranthirs voice started her as he approached from behind, “rumor has it all she wants to do since we so graciously took her in is to leave.”

Curufin scoffed, “and live as a hermit in the woods?”

Celegorm looked her head to toe, “no offense fire child, but you are not suited to a woodland life. I give you a week before you run back to find civilization.”

“Oh come now Turco, give her props, I say a month!” Amrod imputed. 

Anariel gave Celegorm a smile showing her rather sharp teeth and a vulgar hand gesture, “bite me.”

Celegorm grinned showing his own pointy canines, “I would, however my eldest brother has already lay claim, unfortunately.”

“I belong to no one other than myself.” she stood tall, she would not allow herself to be ‘claimed’ by anyone again. 

Caranthir stepped beside her, holding a sheathed long sword, not her preferred blade, her shorter stature made it more difficult to handle, there was a reason she liked short swords and daggers. The expression in Caranthirs eyes told her he realized this as well and challenged her to either use it despite this difficulty or bend her pride to ask for a different blade. She took it bitterly and began to channel her negative emotions and feelings, ready to work them out of her system.

Celegorm did not give her time to collect herself, or even to get into a proper stance. He launched his attack as soon as she had the sword unsheathed and all she could do was block his attack with a sloppy move and step back, but he was relentless. Slashing and confronting her at multiple angles, not letting her adjust herself to the new weapon. Her anger began to rise, and she could not use her fire to put space between them. Feanor remarked on his sons vigor, ‘I do hope he does not waste this much energy on the battlefield.’

‘He’s just being a dick! I’m sure he isn’t that fucking stupid.’ she managed to think in reply.

“Ah, not so tough now, little flame?” Celegorm joked as she used her enhanced strength to try and push him back, “though you are oddly strong for such a small creature.”

‘His right side is poorly defended, use your size and speed to your advantage.’ Feanor advised, his sons immodesty starting to irritate him as well.

Anariel did as he said, retreating with a quick spin to the right, feigning left and swung the sword just as fast. The larger sword was heavier than she liked, but she managed and became more accustomed to it. When she went to attack his right, he managed to deflect barely. She moved quickly to parry, and he was now on the defense.

“Nimble too! Not a normal elleth, but still-” he used his own brute strength and size to try and overwhelm her again, “out of practice. You do not like fighting, do you?”

“Do you ever shut up?” she grunted as he landed a heavy blow, “I’m beginning to think your dog would make better company.”

Ambarussa laughed in the background, “he’s all bark Ana! Don’t let him bother you!”

This was definitely helping wear her out, and her mind solely focused on her opponent cleared her thoughts. Maybe she should keep up with this more often, her muscles began to ache in a savory way and her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She could feel Maedhros keeping watch of her mood through their fea and grew even more irritated, she was not some temperamental child, she already said she would not set fire to anything- well, other than her slip with her brother earlier- she created a wall between them, closing her fea off. She usually left herself open, seeing no problem and even understanding it when he would do this- though it annoyed her that previously to that day kept his own wall up to her own prying. While she lost concentration on the world around her momentarily while putting her shield up, Celegorm launched again, too quickly for her to counter. He knocked her weapon from her hand and as she stumbled back, she fell hard on her rear.

Anariel was stunned, her pulse raced as she tried to steady her breathing, “ouch.” she leaned back, resting her weight on her palms. Her face grew red from either exertion or embarrassment, she was not sure. Maedhros was right- his brother was skilled and cocky. His attacks were too fast for her to parry in her exhausted state, he did not have mercy either.

Again, Maedhros’ fea brushed against hers with mind concern, but she snapped it away in annoyance. If he wanted to act like nothing happened that morning then maybe he should let her be. She furrowed her brow, and tried to shake away her cranky attitude. ‘He is just as confused as you are, do not take your embarrassment out on him.’ Feanor chastised. 

Celegorm took a moment to catch his breath, sheathing his blade and going to stand before her, hand outstretched and a wry smile on his face. “Not bad for an exhausted little mouse.”

Anariel smiled sheepishly, “I am out of practice is all.” she thought for a moment, “and I am not a little mouse! I am not little at all!” 

He laughed heartily, taking her hand and helping her stand, “you are small, much shorter than average! And despite your spit fire attitude, quite tame, so more of a house cat then?”

“That’s enough for today.” Maedhros spoke from his post leaning against a birch tree, “Anariel needs to return to Nolofinwe’s camp before they begin to worry.”

Amrod protested, “but hanno, she just got here!”

“Finrod misses her, surely.” Caranthir spoke, picking up his blade.

Anariel glared, “I can make my own decisions on where I want to be, thank you.” though she was now rather tired and her cot seemed like a reasonable place to be. “And there is nothing beyond friendship between Finrod and I so shut up about that!”

Caranthir did not show if he listened to her or not, simply put away the long sword.

“See, she is already grown fond of us! Let her stay a while longer, please Nelyo?” Amras sat up from his lounging position, “I wanted to see her archery skills!”

“I find you all rather bothersome really, you twins truly just wish to see me set more things on fire.” Anariel’s temper began to settle again as she jested.

The brothers began to bicker between themselves, leaving Anariel to quickly recover from her damaged ego. Adrenaline began dying down but unfortunately her mind still ran despite her body's exhaustion. She wondered if she should take Ambarussa’s invitation for archery. Curufin did bring the supplies necessary. Truthfully she did not mind the Feanorians, they were all rather good spirited (even if Caranthir gave her dirty looks due to his suspicions of her and Finrod) though that might have been Feanor’s own fondness influencing her.

“Next time make sure you are well rested so our duel is actually fair.” Celegorm patted her on the back, “I do hope that will be soon too, we are leaving this next fortnight.” 

She did not mean for her confusion to be so visible, “Maedhros has said nothing of this to me.” hurt flashed her features before she could remember that they were not actually that close. They were not friends- so why did it matter? She blamed Feanor again but he quickly refuted this, ‘do not blame your feelings on me.’ Fine. She would blame their stupid fea then.

She looked to the redhead who had been speaking to Maglor in hushed tones. When he felt her attention on her he turned to meet her gaze, before either of them could speak, Celegorm opened his mouth, “brother, why did you not tell your fair lover of our departure?”

She punched him in the gut and decided to ask Amrod about archery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do Eldar names have to be so dang complicated? If anyone has any knowledge on how they liked to use their names amongst each other and the shortening/nicknames of their names pls message me


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for slacking on this the past few months, life has gotten a bit hectic and I didn't know what to do with this anymore. But I got a comment on Tumbler asking me about it a while ago and it sparked my imagination back up. I am going to be posting this chapter and all other upcoming chapters in a better format I hope with Italics to represent thoughts and Feanor's voice!
> 
> I am also on the lookout for an editor and someone to bounce ideas off of, so if anyone is willing, please message me!

Maedhros sent an envoy to Fingolfin stating that Anariel was safe and staying in the Feanorian camp for the day. Of course he did not give more detail on what had occurred, he was still trying to figure that out himself. But as the morning faded into afternoon he found his mind easing again. fespecially as she grew more comfortable around his pack of brothers. After her failed sparring match she, Celegorm and Curufin began to get along better, though she still grew easily annoyed with them, and Celegorm and Curufin obviously enjoyed pushing her buttons. Caranthir lingered but did not speak much more than to satisfy his own curiosity about her. He wandered off after another hour or so. Not so surprisingly she got along best with Ambarussa, they were all young (her still being significantly more so) and light-hearted. Maedhros heard her laugh more in that afternoon than he had before. He and Maglor supervised from the sidelines as they set up a shooting range to conduct archery. Her skill with a bow was indeed impressive, her eyesight seemed more keen than even an elf.

“Woah! You have made the bulls-eye nearly every shot!” Amrod enthused.

“I just imagine it is someone I dislike and it gives me the resolve to aim true.” her sarcasm sat well with the family, much more than the Nolofinwens which made her feel more relaxed.

The twins laughed, Maglor chuckled as well, “a cheeky little thing.”

The eldest brothers laid against a large tree watching as archery developed into story time, “I believe it is mostly a defense mechanism.” Maedhros replied, “she is much more tender-hearted than she lets on.”

“Oh?” Maglor was not one to tease, however he was genuinely interested as to what happened earlier to make his brother become so focused on her. “Tell me, Maitimo, what really happened that made you so drawn to her?”

“I-Nothing- I found her in a damn tree at dawn, I startled her and she fell out of it so I helped her up...Turko and Curvo have horrible timing is all.” When was the last time he sounded so unsure of himself?

But Maglor was gracious and said nothing about it, instead bringing up more thoughts of his own, “she feels...familiar does she not? Surely we have never met her, but it is almost like we have known her before.”

“I agree, our brothers have not been accepting of others theses past decades I am relieved that they are being so...pleasant,” Celegorm, Curufin and Caranthir were hardly pleasant but given their usual attitudes Maedhros still considered it decent, “she is not being open with us though and I do not wish for them to grow attached… in case she is deceiving us in some way.”

“Were you so candid when you first began healing?” Maglor asked daringly, knowing that it was a sensitive subject for his older brother to discuss. “And you trust her although you try and convince yourself otherwise.”

“Her detachment is understandable, and I want to trust her, but I must keep an open mind as well, she was a prisoner of Morgoth, for years, Kano.” His brother was right, and he knew as of that morning that she was much like him after escaping- trying only to figure if she was being deceived with freedom and if the game would end soon. She did not have it in her to purposefully trick anyone, she was too focused on holding herself together.

“You and I both know that does not mean she is still under his control.”

*****

Anariel’s eyelids began to grow heavy as the afternoon went on, she grew tired of physical activities after showing the twins her archery skills and they headed back to the camp to get more food and relax. They sat around a fire, Maedhros and Maglor joining them, telling different stories of their lives, many of the stories intertwined with one of their brothers, and often one was interrupted by another for not telling the tale correctly. Feanor was surprised by some of the stories that he was not involved in and corrected others that he remembered. Most had to do with before they left Aman, told in a light style that showed how they missed the peaceful golden days spent under the light of the two trees, she wished that she had been around to witness it. Apparently everything that happened after the two trees were extinguished had just been one dark and bloody mess, and she was sucked into the world of Arda at the worst possible time. No one really spoke of what happened between then and now, and usually changed the subject tactfully back to better times, when they did she felt Feanor’s guilt- a rare emotion for such a proud spirit.

 _Your perspective on events you have lived through can...alter at times after death._ he told her in the confines of her mind.

The days were beginning to grow colder and fires were kept lit as warming stations throughout the day, though she hardly noticed, her fire kept her warm no matter the external temperature. However she did not complain when a thick cloak was draped across her shoulders when the sun began to set and the temperature began to drop even further. Between her body heat and the heat of the fire, she became quite cozy, and it became harder to stay awake, even with how the volume of the conversations around her changed so dramatically depending on which Feanorian was speaking and what it was they were talking about. She chose to sit next to Maedhros and Maglor, the more mild of the brothers, who chimed in mostly for corrections, and when they did keep a regular tone of voice. She was less bothered with Maedhros than she had been earlier, she did not blame him for not wanting to discuss what had happened because honestly she did not know how to approach it either. Though she felt an odd ache in her chest when she thought of his upcoming departure, which baffled her still so she would shake it off and pull herself back from her own thoughts to ask a question or make an input on the current story.

An hour or so before sundown Curufin and Celegorm returned from wherever they had wandered off to, dead rabbits over each shoulder, and Huan in tow with a rather pleased looking canine smile. “Dinner!” Celegorm shared an expression similar to his hounds, taking a seat a bit farther than the fire and pulling out a sharp knife.

Anariel tried to keep her eyes averted as Curufin dropped his own bundle of rabbits by him and left muttering something about getting cooking supplies, Huan came to sit at her feet promptly. She tangled her fingers in his fur and tried to concentrate on Amrod (and Amras) telling her a story of how they once successfully pranked their uncle Nolofinwe. After what she had been through in Angband, she thought that she would be relatively immune to blood and any sort of gore, but seeing the innocent dead animals made her uneasy, and annoyed at her reaction. She stood promptly, pulling her attention to the west where the sky began to change color and the flaming sun pulled her attention.

“I would like to go for a walk now.” she pulled the cloak closer to her body, startling Huan when she moved so suddenly.

“Would you like company?” Amrod asked.

“Not particularly.”

“Are you going back to Nolo’s camp?” Amras responded, sounding a bit melancholy about the subject.

The twins were quickly becoming attached to her, she felt an odd emotion at the thought of it, “...not yet.”

She began to wander away from the circle of Feanorians in search of a proper place to watch the sunset, perhaps this time not up a tree, she did not want to fall out of it if she did manage to lose consciousness. Her energy was beginning to dwindle, her body was exhausted and for once, her mind agreed, there were not as many thoughts racing through it, Feanor had even quieted. She was at peace, and had to admit that she had been most of the day- other than the slight drama brought by the mornings events and Maedhros’ rowdy family. She could feel his fea, as she could all day mingling with her own, she knew that he followed her but did not mind, welcoming his presence. Anariel did not acknowledge him other than a subtle brush against his fea, smiling when the motion was returned.

She followed the same path that had taken her into the camp at the beginning of the day, remembering a hill that was ideal for the view she craved, leading the red head along. She was weary and did not take the trouble to watch the path, trusting her feet just enough not to let her trip as her eyes focused on the changing hues of the sky. It was shifting from a bright blue to soft lilacs, the sun hit the cirrus clouds turning them a brilliant shade of orange, the beauty of it drew the same reaction as that morning. Another day had passed and she had yet to be dragged from her dreams of freedom and a beautiful world, maybe she was dead, but she did not feel like it, the feeling of the heartbeat in her chest and the reassuring energy of Maedhros was still too tangible. As the anxieties of waking in that dreadful place began to lessen the disquiet of her future began to settle, the splendor of the setting sun eased all these feelings, at least for a moment.

When she found the place she was searching for, she climbed the hill and sat at the top, pulling her legs closer to her body, and wrapping the cloak around her like a blanket. “You are welcome to follow us east, if you wish.”

Maedhros rested himself beside her, a respectful distance, his eyes following her own, he caught her off guard, she tried not to show it. “I...I just do not want to be…”

She took a deep breath, her eyes falling from the sky and down to observe the dying grass beneath her, she tried to avoid thinking of what she would do next, knowing that eventually she would be forced to make a decision. Anariel did realize this was not the best course of action, however it hurt too much for her to face the fact that she did not have a plan of action to take after the elves disembarked their camp. She could go in search of her friends, to see if the others had managed to escape and if they were still alive, but she did not have a starting point. She had no experience in tracking, and although she now considered herself proficient in Quenya and could now easily learn Sindarin more thoroughly she was not confident in her abilities to make it on her own in the wild. Celegorm so kindly pointed this out earlier, and as aggravated as she was about it, he had a point, she had minimal survival skills.

"I will not subjugate you in any way." He watched her pick at the grass and felt a pull in his heart as her eyes welled with tears, "I assure you that if you ever wish you leave then you will not be impeded."

Maedhros was not sure why he made this offer, he was hesitant about most of what had transpired between them that day. He found this immensely frustrating, and to cope with it he told himself that it would keep her from engulfing all of Beleriand in flames. Possibly assure her alliance with the Noldor by offering her this kindness. He did not want to face the fact he simply craved the warmth of her soul and he wanted to learn more about her. In short, he was rather conflicted and growing frustrated with himself, it was not very often that he was left so puzzled, Maedhros prided himself on his composure.

“If you even try to-”

“You will roast me alive?” he chuckled.

She smiles and subtly wipes her eyes with his cloak, “you catch on quickly.”

“Like tinder for a fire.”

*****

The sunset was as glorious as the morning's sunrise, Anariel’s skin glowed as it had that morning, though it was mostly hidden by the fabric she cocooned around herself, Maedhros still could not help but to stare. She was too lost admiring the changing hues of the sky, watching as the stars slowly began to blink into existence, letting her mind become blank and just savor the calmness and sense of peace it brought. Another day had passed with little to no hardship, she had not once been hurt, other than sore muscles from her practice with Celegorm, and through the whole day she felt no fear. They spent an hour together in a comfortable silence, Maedhros unwittingly moved closer to her, feeling the cool air of autumn bite at his nose, she leaned against him, resting her eyes, her inner flame warming them both. He could not help but to let his fea absorb the joy hers produced while her spirit practically consumed the ray of the sun as it sunk below the horizon. He provided a steady presence, keeping her from letting her thoughts get too loud and from falling asleep in the middle of the woods.

The tops of the trees blocked out the rest of the view, the sky was a dark indigo, and Maedhros could smell roasting meat not too far off. After supper was had, he would have to walk Anariel back to Fingolfin’s camp, as he said he would do in his letter earlier that day. She was already softly snoring, he should have escorted her back after Ambarussa tuckered her out with their stories. He turned his head slightly to get a better look at her- his left eye had never regained it’s full strength after being scarred by Morgoth, blurring his view. She was much sweeter when she was resting, her sass and attitude was muted- her lips pouted somewhat and her face was serene. He would have to wake her soon or when his brothers came searching for them they would be caught in a compromising position.

“Áre (Sunlight), wake up.” he muttered.

“Mhm?” She did not open her eyes.

“I will take you back to Fingolfin’s camp after we eat.” he continued to speak softly, after being the one often left to wake his brothers, he knew the best tactics for each, and figured she would best take after the method he used with Caranthir. Enticing her with the promise of food and a nap later on.

“Not hungry, just sleep.”

He tried not to smile, “you would sleep in the middle of the cold woods?”

“I’ve had it worse.” she said nonchalantly, not awake enough to process what she admitted. “I will keep myself warm.”

She let herself fall dramatically to the side, apparently aware enough though to be theatrical, “fine then, I will send Caranthir to carry you back to your camp, it has been a while since he spoke with Finrod.”

Anariel groaned, “empty threats.” Still, she sat up, sighing greatly and watching as he stood, if temptation did not work, bluffing usually would. He helped her to her feet and guided her down the path that they had taken earlier, it was not long before they could hear the chatter of his family through the brush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think, as I said I have had a hard time with this and live off of praise, it fuels me to write more and do better! Do you have a favorite part? Let me know? Any comments on how I can do better? Message me!
> 
> Why do the chapters always look longer on google docs and not on the AO3 format?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Áre   
> Q. noun. day, sunlight, sunlight, warmth (especially of the sun)

Anariel barely had the energy to eat the rabbit stew that was offered to her. When she and Maedhros returned to the Feanorian campgrounds they were once again given suspicious looks, but ignored them. The brothers sensed Maedhros’ own depleted energy and must have felt kind enough not to jab at them. Anariel ate in silence, watching the flames of the fire dance and the embers crackle, it did nothing but relax her further. Soon she was again snoozing against Maedhros’ shoulder, not caring in the least where she was or who saw.

Maedhros did his best to keep awake, he had to get her back to her own camp, Fingolfin and Finrod surely had to be worried, but he had not slept in two full days, and had not properly rested in a week. The stew was warm and heavy, settling nicely in his stomach, Anariel’s soft and steady breathing was lulling him off as well. He did not mind when he felt her head fall against his shoulder, giving his brothers a slightly grouchy warning look to stay quiet about it, to which they did to his surprise. He hardly paid attention to his families chatting, Maglor even began to strum his lyre, in the end he could hardly remain conscious. He did not even notice how Caranthir leaned over to the twin to whisper something, and did not think anything of it when they nodded and disappeared into the night.

“Nelyo,” Celegorm patted his shoulder gently, “take Anariel and go to your tent.” His voice was soft, but oddly authoritative for the third born.

Maedhros shook his head, “we need to return her to-”

“The twins went to tell uncle she would return tomorrow, you are both too tired to make the journey.”

Maedhros hardly had the energy to argue, but he tried, “it is not that far, I could be there and back in less than half an hour.”

“Would you enjoy listening to a lecture from Nolo about how you need to rest more? I assure you that would be what he would do once he sees how exhausted you look.” Celegorm’s eyes darted to the fire wielder as she settled further into his brother's side.

“”It is improper-” Maedhros moved to wake Anariel again, but she was not having it, making a face in her sleep and what could have been interpreted as a warning growl, what a cute feral creature.

Celegorm rolled his eyes, “so is screwing your cousin-” his temper was starting to slip but he caught himself, “just do not touch where you are not supposed to and you will be fine. Sleep on the ground if you like, but she is not going to make it back to her own cot, you do not have the energy to carry her all the way there and not pass out yourself, and none of the others are very welcome in the Nolofinwen camp.”

Maedhros finally caved, feeling as if his argument would be futile tonight no matter how he spun it. He moved as carefully as he could, shifting slightly to his side to put his left arm around her shoulders so his hand could properly grip her, and his right under her knees to pick her up and cradle her close to his body. Similar to how he would often carry his brothers when they were young; she really was small and seemed so fragile in that moment, though he knew better. Anariel curled into him, but did not wake as he took her back to his tent, not far from where his family gathered. When he pushed through the flap of the tent and entered the dark space he could still hear Maglor’s lyre and faint chattering. The night was still young and he figured that they would all be awake for a while yet.

Maedhros kneeled to set Anariel on the mattress, gently covering her and admiring her soft features. He was careful not to move too harshly when he crawled to the other side and settled in himself. The bed was large enough to fit them both, and he knew from experience sleeping on the hard ground would only bring inevitable nightmares of his own torment. He kept a respectful distance, even letting her take most of the blankets as she curled into herself and pulled the blankets and a pillow into a nest. His drowsy thoughts lingered for a moment on Fingon, and how he often did the same, his heart pained momentarily at the thought. That night had been the most peaceful sleep he had since leaving for battle, and he had no wicked dreams since the last time he shared a bed with his past lover.

*********

Maglor went to check on Anariel and Maedhros later than night when the others had gone to sleep and he was on his way to his own tent. His older brother had a larger tent than the others, mostly due to his own tall stature, but also his ranking as commander. His mattress was a size bigger as well, so Maglor was slightly surprised to see the sight he saw when he peeked into the canvas. Maedhros usually slept stiffly, his right arm raised above his head when he forgot to or plainly refused to wear his brace. A subtle sign of his lingering trauma. This night he curled on his side, cocooning himself around the smaller female, his right arm securely tucked under her own. Maglor smiled at the peaceful expression on their faces, promising silently he would keep what he saw to himself.

*********

Anariel spoke in her sleep- mostly in her own language, but occasionally in Quenya or Sindarin. Maedhros woke up a while before her, his rest was peaceful but even so, sleeping for longer than a few hours at a time was nearly impossible for him. Elves usually did not require much sleep to begin with. When he heard her conversing, still in a sleepy stupor himself, he was immediately concerned, until he saw her eyes were closed and she was curled in his arms. Her grip on his right arm was not one he could take away, his whole arm was tucked under hers and held closely to her chest, and she refused to let it go. He did not have it in his heart to pull away and possibly wake her, considering she looked as if she had not gotten as good of rest as this in quite a long time, and her fea was calm. He knew what it was like to need such a rejuvenating slumber and the effects of being woken up from that, and did not want to put her through it, so he suffered (well, not really) for a while longer, drifting off into his thoughts.

“ _Did you remember to do that thing_?” Maedhros could not understand her tongue, but it sounded like a question.

“What do you mean Anariel?” he decided to amuse himself by keeping up the conversation.

Her brow furrowed as if confused, but then settled again, “oh, that is me.” she muttered, this time in Quenya. “Dad wants us to go to town.”

Maedhros smiled, “who else would you be?” he thought for a moment, curiously, “and who is your father?”

“I want to be...a cat.” she giggled before growing somber, “I miss him.”

He hummed, finding humor in her answer, though understanding her longing for her father, perhaps better than most, “an interesting choice. Maybe you will see him again soon.”

Her lips trembled, “no, I will not.”

He tried to continue and sooth her but she was silent the remainder of the night. For a while anyways, but soon he would have to wake her, he was growing uncomfortable in his position and there was much to do. Planning for their upcoming travels, he wished to write Fingon as well. Anariel would have to return to Fingolfin’s camp and they would then tell the King of her plan to follow Maedhros. He would also need to write to his Fortress’s staff and ask for them to prepare rooms for her to stay in. He was tempted to wake her when he noticed the darkness begin to fade into morning light. Before he could however, there was a sudden change in her aura, he moved to wake her but she bolted upright with a gasp and her fea wild with panic.

Maedhros did not have the time to respond as she shoved him away, so hard she pushed herself from the mattress. Her eyes were wide and filled with terror and tears, the dancing embers of her inner fire hidden in her gaze glowed brightly. She was frantically stumbling over her limbs as she tried to move and was whining in her own language. She had awakened from a nightmare it seemed, when no less than an hour prior she was smiling in her sleep.

He moved slowly to the side of the bed, trying to appear non threatening and using a gentle and calm tone of voice, “Áre, you are awake now.”

“W-where- where am I?” her eyes darted around the dim tent, she had been asleep when he carried her to this place, and could understand her alarm of waking in a foreign area.

“You are safe, in my tent.” he replied simply, not wanting to overwhelm her.

She began to rapidly snap her fingers on one hand and the other pinching her skin harshly, “He-he had Adam drown me-” she said shakily, trying to explain her nightmare, “I-I cannot swim- Adam was going to-”

Suddenly flames erupted around her body, causing Maedhros to flinch, but as soon as they were lit, she diminished them, leaving no trace. He tried to put together her rambling, knowing exactly who the ‘he’ she spoke of was, his nightmares often held the same character, but this ‘Adam’, he did not know. “There is no water near, and no one else in this tent but you and I.”

Anariel stared at him for a long moment before nodding and seeming to come to her senses, her breathing slowed to a normal rate, and she rubbed the places she pinched so hard, coming to grips with being awake, “I am sorry if I woke you.”

He relaxed as well and moved to the end of the mattress, standing slowly, “I have been waiting for you to wake, actually.”

“You were?” She stood as well, a bit unsteady, but she managed. He did not offer to help, knowing that she would either be frustrated by this or not welcome the physical touch. “Kind of creepy to watch me sleep.” Anariel sassed him, putting up her usual front.

“Well you had an iron grip on my arm, I could hardly move,” he threw back, “you talk in your sleep by the way.” he teased trying to ease her still rigid posture.

“I-what did I say?” she asked with concern, and slight embarrassment.

“Nothing I could really decipher, however Huan may be hurt when he learns you dream of being a cat.” he mused.

  
  
*****  
  
  


The sun had only just risen above the horizon, but it could hardly be seen from behind a curtain of full grey clouds, Anariel did not let her disappointment show, but was not surprised. The season was getting late, and soon the clouds that threatened more severe weather would make good on their promise. She began to wonder why the war camp had yet to disband completely, surely travelling this close to winter was not wise, even for the heartier elves? Though, if Fingolfin could cross the Helcaraxe, she had little reason to doubt his ability to survive a regular winter snowfall...then again she did not quite know what a Beleriand winter was truly like. The seasons never seemed to change in Angband, it was always bitterly cold, but she had not seen snow since a long time ago. She knew that Maedhros was planning on packing up his camp to leave, was Fingolfin planning the same? 

“You are thinking hard on something,” Maglor’s gaze had been upon her for quite some time, he had been the only one other than she and Maedhros to wake up so early, and waited with her graciously as Maedhros changed into a new day's attire.

Anariel snapped out of her still groggy haze, “sorry, I am still tired, I just zoned out.”

He tilted his head, it was an odd saying in Quenya, “what do you mean?” mixing her language sayings and slang translated in a weird way to the elven tongue.

Anariel tried to think of a good explanation, “it means...that basically um, my mind was lost in thought or just...wandering in no particular direction.”

Maglor nodded, “ah, I see, so no revolutionary thoughts then?”

She smiled and huffed a small chuckle, “not really, nothing interesting.”

Maedhros exited his tent in an outfit that could have been an exact copy of the one he wore the day prior, but in a different shade of grey, possibly a bit more black. She had observed the past few weeks that he wore mostly darker colors, greys, black and the occasional green, however, his houses colors were a Feanorian red and gold. It would contrast with the lovely auburn hair though, so she did not hold it against him, she thought he looked quite nice in that evergreen color...she really needed to stop admiring him like that. She switched her thoughts back to the disembarkation of the camps, and what it meant for her upcoming future, did she make the right decision going with Maedhros rather than Fingolfin? After all, she had spent so long at his camp, and had made friends in Glorfindel, Ecthelion and especially Finrod, it would be difficult to explain why she felt so secure with Maedhros, who up until yesterday morning she found interesting but in no way compelled to follow. Her insecurity in the decision likely stemmed from the fact that she herself would like a proper explanation for her ties to Maedhros, at this point she understood without having to be told that they shared trauma, but what did that matter when during these past weeks he had made no attempt to help her through her own as Finrod had?

“Zoning out again, Anariel?” Maglor waved his hand in front of her face, snapping back her attention.

“Oh! Sorry, yes, were you...were you saying something?” she stumbled through her sentence, oh how she longed for coffee.

“ ‘Zoning out’?” Maedhros questioned.

“She says it means her mind is wandering.”

“Wandering where?”

“Good question.” Maglor led the way from the Feanorian camp, “I was just saying that I am excited to hear you will be following us back east. I find your company enjoyable, and a nice break from my heathen brothers.”

Maglor bid his brother and Anariel a good day at the edge of the camp, waving them off with a pleasant smile, Maedhros assured him that he would be back in time for lunch, at least, before guiding the smaller female down the path between the two camps. Anariel appreciated the lack of awkwardness in the silence between them, and her mind began to settle in his presence, deep within her she knew the calm she felt with him was real, and the reason she had chosen to join his march back east. It was not anyone's business but her own on what she decided to do next really, and though she would miss Finrod, Glorfindel and Ecthelion. None of them had made her feel so serenely in the past few weeks as Maedhros had in only the past day, and as much as her logical mind tried to fight the strong feeling in her heart and gut she would risk the consequences. If only she was able to feel that peace at least a while longer with him, and find refuge from the memories and anxiety that haunted her for even a small fraction of time. But still, she had always worried what others would think, it was always a major insecurity of hers, and would turn her into a people pleaser and a push over, she did her best to fight it.

_It does not matter what they think, you are doing what you believe to be best for your minds health._ Feanor’s spirit spoke up.

_And what if this choice is not for the best?_ Anariel contemplated, she may feel secure with Maedhros now, but what if her opinion changes? _What if I end up regretting this decision?_

_I can assure you that following Nelyo is your best option_ , Feanor countered, _much more so than my brother or nephew._

_Your judgement is bias, he is your son._

“Nolofinwe will understand your decision,” Maedhros spoke up, as if reading her mind, pulling her from her internal argument “you and I,” he hesitated, Anariel could tell he was not used to being so uncertain of himself, “ we have...similar experiences in life that cause our fae to gravitate toward one another. He is keen and was aware of this before I was willing to admit it to myself.”

Anariel pursed her lips together and scrunched her brow, as she often did when confused, “is that what this is? This feeling? Shared trauma?”

“In a simple sense, yes, that is what I have come to believe.” Maedhros nodded, his facade of confidence in his answer fooled her, but not his own mind. In truth it was more of a hope of his, and made the most sense to him logically, there was no real way of knowing for certain.

They could hear the sounds of Fingolfin’s camp slowly coming to life as the grey sky grew brighter. Anariel accepted his words for the time being, they did help soothe her anxiety, for the moment at least. She still wondered why the pull toward him had become so much stronger, though to be fair, it was there before, she remembered the moment their eyes met on the battlefield. When he had been so certain, even facing an army of horrid creatures and not knowing if she would flambe them as well, that he would fight with all of his strength. She was so scared during that battle, despite her confidence in her own strength and power the grip of Morgoth on her mind was so strong she was frightened of the consequences of running. The morning light had amplified her powers, did it play a part the other morning when their gaze met under such similar but still different circumstances? In a world filled with mysticism and magic- more than her own at least- was what was really between them more of a magic bond, or just as he said? Something as mundane as shared trauma?

“You are going to give yourself a headache with how much you overthink, Anariel.” Maedhros chided.

She craned her neck to look at him, “I have a feeling that you have similar issues, Mae.” 

He did not correct her nickname.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Áre   
> Q. noun. day, sunlight, sunlight, warmth (especially of the sun)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anariel tells Fingolfin and Finrod she will be going with Maedhros, Fingolfin has news for Maehdros, does Feanor have any regrets in death?

Finrod smiled fondly as Anariel entered the King’s tent, she was up earlier than usual, of course, the person she came with was an early riser- if he even slept at all. Maedhros followed closely behind, his stoic face contrasting Anariel’s cheery demeanor though it was obvious to those that knew her best; it was mostly a mask. Maedhros could still feel her apprehensive energy but he had to commend her acting skills. Fingolfin sat at the head of the table, Finrod to his left, and Turgon to his right, Glorfindel and Ecthelion were not present. They had already finished breakfast, and had been discussing something when Maedhros and Anariel entered the camp. 

“Ah, there you are nephew, Anariel, how do you fair this morning?” Fingolfin did not stand, but greeted them with a welcoming smile.

“It has gotten a little chilly overnight,” Anariel commented.

“Not that it bothers you, fire wielder.” Fingolfin observed, “sit, we have matters to discuss.”

Anariel nodded, choosing the seat next to Finrod, who she greeted with a nod and genuine smile, “I apologize if I caused you any concern leaving the camp yesterday.”

“There is no apology necessary, Maedhros sent us a message explaining the situation.” Finrod said, “I am very glad you were able to relax a little, you seem a little less...tense.”

Maedhros pulled up a chair on the other side of Turgon, greeting him with a nod, “I do not think it was as relaxing as you think, my brothers are as rambunctious as ever, Tyelkormo challenged her to a duel and Ambarussa harassed her until she participated in archery with them. It is not wise to keep them pinned to one place for such an extensive amount of time.”

He was direct to the point then, though Anariel had a feeling this is also what Fingolfin was planning to deliberate, she knew it was coming before she even made her choice on what she would do. She heard discussions of packing up and going back to their territories and this had caused her to stress. She was relieved that she had some sense of what would happen next now that she made the decision to follow Maedhros. Though finding a way to approach the subject of that decision she found cumbersome, especially with Finrod sitting beside her. She had grown close to him these past weeks and almost felt as if she was betraying him by making this choice, after all, he had become her friend whereas Maedhros had remained slightly aloof with her up until very recently. 

“It is good then that you all shall be returning to your lands in the East then, before they begin to stir up trouble.” Turgon noted, “Now that we have thoroughly cleared the lands of remaining orcs we should all be able to go in our own directions.”

“Indeed,” Fingolfin turned his attention to Anariel, who did her best not to fidget, “we need to discuss what your plans are, Anariel, you have learned enough of our language and some of our culture to make a more educated choice. If you wish to go your own way, we will supply you with all that is necessary for your travels, however I believe I speak on behalf of everyone when I say that it will be wise to remain in the company of the Eldar.”

Anariel bobbed her head, but could not find words for what she wanted to say, she was able to grasp that she would not make it on her own weeks ago, the fact of the matter really sunk in the previous night when she spoke with Maedhros. She was not prepared to make the choice until he made his offer to her, she was sure that even if he had not, she would be welcome to join Fingolfin or Finrod. Her logical mind still fought her on making such a rash decision to go with someone she had only a ‘gut feeling’ about, but her heart was oddly set in its judgement. 

“I...I will remain with the Eldar, you are correct that it is a better option and I am not confident that I will be able to survive on my own.” Anariel felt her body decompress, yes, she would live among the Eldar, while doing so heal, and maybe one day, she would be able to seek out her old friends so she could help them do the same.

“Wise decision,” Fingolfin approved, “I will be returning to Hithlum with Turukano until he is ready to go back to Nevrast, if you wish to join us, I believe that Findarato will be going to Doriath to be with his siblings and King Thingol.”

“Ah! Wonderful.” Finrod beamed, finding relief that he would not have to worry about his new friend, “I could contact Lord Thingol and request he set up a residence for you. I believe you would get along well with my sister, Artanis.”

Anariel’s heart ached at Finrod’s enthusiasm, “I have actually decided that I will be going to Himring with Maedhros.”

It was an understatement to say that most of those in the tent were shocked, she could practically feel it, and they were not wrong to be. Within the time she had been with the Eldar, Maedhros had made little effort in associating with her outside of when Fingolfin required his presence. She knew that they had expected her to follow Finrod, given how close they had become and how comfortable she was with him. And if it were not for that moment the other morning when their bond had snapped into place, she would more than likely have gone with Finrod. However, their meeting at sunrise had happened for a reason, or at least she tried to convince herself of that, there must have been some fate involved otherwise she would not feel such a calm and peace in her choice. Yes, she was worried of what the others would think, and if she had been rash, but her heart was oddly set in this route. Anariel knew that she would find healing and a future following Maedhros, what that future held was yet to be seen but she could feel the pull of destiny guiding her.

“O-oh.” the disappointment in Finrod’s voice hurt, but a smile quickly replaced his somber face, “well, it is your choice. I did not know that the two of you have spoken about this.”

“Fret not, cousin, I do not plan on stealing her away forever.” Maedhros interjected, feeling Anariels apprehension, “I have put thought into what we have discussed previously about her rehabilitation and taken your words to heart. I offered her a place at the fortress while she heals from the darkness left within her spirit by the Enemy. Once she is more at peace she may perhaps be inclined to travel more of Beleriand and pay you a visit.”

“Ah, a wise decision then,” she could see that Finrod was still slightly discouraged but understanding nonetheless, “I will look forward to those times then.”

“Now that that has been settled, shall I give the orders to begin final preparations for travel?” Turgon spoke up, clearly unconcerned about the tense air in the room.

“Very well then, have everyone ready to leave by the end of fortnight, we will leave shortly after Nelyafinwe and his brothers.” Fingolfin stood, adjourning the meeting.

  
  


*****

Maedhros remained behind to speak to his uncle privately, he was not specifically requested to stay as the others filed out, but he sensed that there was more to that he wished to discuss. He could tell that Anariel was still tense, and unsure of herself, but she would eventually have to come to terms with the path she had chosen. He would be true to his word and let her do as she wanted (within reason) when she went with him and if that meant eventually plotting a chorus on her own then he would not hold her back. Maedhros knew better than any of the Eldar what it was like to be held captive and tormented by the true darkness of the world. Because they had both suffered in ways akin to one another it was as if fate had drawn them together, perhaps as a mercy to bear the burden of that sorrow together. Their fae was just able to recognize this before their conscious minds which startled them both and caused Anariel such conflict between her mind and heart. 

“You will keep me updated on her status.” Fingolfin asked in a way that sounded like a request, his tone friendly but the connotation of the request was more of a kingly demand. Maedhros was right to abdicate the throne to him, he was much more regal than he could ever hope to be.

“Of course, My King.” Maedhros bowed his head, “I will send word monthly if I am able.”

“There is more to her that is vital to know that she has not yet shared with us. There have been reports from other outposts,” Fingolfin moved to a chest that was near his makeshift throne, pulling a key from his robes he unlocked a fine golden latch and took several parchments from the container, “of beings similar to her, that share our general appearance but with sharper ears, claws and fangs.”

Maedhros hesitated before taking the letters the king offered to him, he had been too enamored by the softer features of Anariel to keep in consideration that her less noticeable features were more...feral than a normal elves. Because she was not an elf- a topic that was brought up not too long ago, she was something else created by Morgoth, that she herself did not even fully comprehend. They may have both suffered in many ways at his hands, and been changed by that experience, but for her the physical alteration had to be detrimental. And she had mentioned very briefly that she had friends that were forced to go through this...was this Adam she spoke of with such terror after her nightmare as deadly as she was?

“Nelyo, there are others like her roaming Belariand. We need to find out who's side they are on.” 

  
  


*********

Anariel could feel her powers flowing beneath her skin, almost as if they were an itch she was not able to scratch. If she concentrated on them she could feel flames lick at her fingertips and taste fire on her tongue. Even in the crisp autumn air when those around her wore thicker robes and cloaks, she felt as if she were in summer, and got plenty of looks for walking around with a short sleeved tunic. Usually her fire felt soothing and calming, after so much training and forced control she normally had a grip on them, but the orange flames had turned blue within her mind and she knew she had to do something before she lost that restraint. When she was confined in Angband nearly everyday had some sort of exercise of her skills and even though she knew that a build up of her powers could be uncomfortable, the only time it had ever gotten to this point was before the Dagor Aglareb. She had been slacking, and had not been exerting herself as she had before, and this has caused the well of her power to fill to a dangerous level.

It would not be safe to just erupted into flame and burn it all off in one go, not for her, or anyone around her, if she did the whole forest would likely burst into flames and she would undoubtedly lose complete control of the inferno. Then she would lose consciousness for a few days, unable to help put out the wildfire she created or at the very least hinder the process of packing up the camps and finally letting everyone return to their homes. That did not sound ideal for Anariel, so she did her best to ease her burden by siphoning off her powers in small, menial ways, much like slowly pouring out molten metal into a mold rather than dumping it all at once. She had been starting the night's fires for the elves before, but now she regulated them, keeping them burning longer and slightly warmer than usual. They appreciated it as the temperatures continued to drop as the days went by. She set all of the torches for the evening as well, and the cooking fires, and after scaring Glorfindel thoroughly, kept any bathes warm as well. 

These actions helped tremendously as small as they were, but did not lower the pressure, only keeping it from boiling over. So when the moon rose high in the night sky and she was certain most of those around her had gone to sleep, she would leave her tent, going on a walk was not out or her habitual norms. She would go to the pond that the Eldar had first found her at and sit in the shallows of the pool, breaking the thin layer of ice at the top so she could enter and feel the smooth pebbles on her bare feet. There were no living creatures within the pond, so she felt no guilt as she used the icy waters to calm her fire. She would remove her clothes to avoid scorching them- walking back to Fingolfin’s camp did not sound appealing if she turned them to ash- and folded them nicely farther away so that if she lost control, hopefully they would not be consumed. When she came close enough to the water that the shore turned to stone and little vegetation she slowly let her body be consumed by her fire. 

She remembered how terrified she was when she was transformed, her body felt as if it were being cooked, her skin boiled and the pain was excruciating. Anariel was no longer afraid to be burned, and the feeling of heat soothed her anxious mind, it was almost as if it were her natural form to be a flame herself. Is this why when she gazed upon the sun, the reincarnation of the great tree Laurelin and pure fire she felt such familiarity? She would stand like that, engulfed in the light she created, for an uncertain amount of time, feeling the tension in her body unfurrel and the weight of her well of power being drained rather than maintained at such a state. After a while she would slowly walk into the water, watching the ice turn to mist almost instantly, the hiss of the changing temperature was the only sound now that all the animals had either migrated or began to frantically find places to hibernate.

She never went far into the depths of the water, no farther than where she could wade and still touch the bottom. Once she had known how to swim, but that was before the water a friend was able to manipulate nearly drowned her. As helpful as the water was to control her fire, it was just as dangerous and able to extinguish it all together. Feanor would come to her at this time, manifesting on the shore in the moonlight though his own inner flame shone bright enough that even when a cloud covered the remaining light of Telperion his presence was seen. She found it odd that his spirit resided within her and not with one of her friends who was also transformed using his creations. Though his name literally translated to ‘Spirit of Fire’ so after she thought about it, it made sense he would be connected to the element and the one who inherited the ability to wield it. She was the first to be changed, the first to awaken the part of Feanor’s spirit that dwelt within the jewels used to make that change, and...well, it was hard for her to comprehend fully, but she knew it was all connected to his spirit, the jewels and what he used to create the jewels. He never divulged this information to her and refused to explore any of the process of their creation or her own with her. Instead, while he stood vigil as she slowly released her flames and brought the ice water to a simmer, he stood in silence, absorbing what he could of the night. 

Anariel did not have to guess if he missed being a part of the living world, it was not often, but she caught glimpses or felt it on occasion of his longing for life. She felt his soul ache when Maedhros would leave, or how she could feel very faintly his yearning to see his sons as she chose to stay within Fingolfin’s camp until it was time to leave. There some mornings when she watched the sun climb the horizon he would join her, amazed at how different but still so similar it was to Laurelin. He would watch the moon in the sky at night and marvel at it- he did tell her once that it had not been around when he had met his demise, that the world was still in darkness after the fall of the two trees. She did not know yet how exactly he died, or even much about his life other than fractions of memories she had seen of his sons and wife. She wondered if he regretted dying and leaving his sons to find their own way in such a new and unknown land. When there was so much of Beleriand to see, experience and learn about, and how different it must have been from Valinor. He did not seem like the type to have many regrets, he was too sure of himself and determined, but he told her before that perspective on events you have lived through can change after death.

She would be travelling with his sons back to their steads there where just a few days south east of where they had already camped, as it turned out Fingolfin had the longer trek to the battlefield. Anariel was grateful that there was not much distance to travel, however it was equally terrifying knowing that she would not be far from where she was held captive for so long. But like Maedhros, she would have to be brave and bear it, and if he was able to do so after what torment he was made to be a part of, then she could too. Perhaps this reassurance was another good reason she would be going with him, if she were to go with Finrod or Fingolfin, would they be able to offer her the same kind of comfort? They could always say that because their lands were farther west then it meant the enemy was less likely to invade, however she would rather have the comfort of knowing Maedhros and his brothers were steadfast and would be more likely able to defend his territory. Maybe that confidence was a false reformation coming from a part of Feanor, but she accepted it.

Anariel remained in Fingolfin’s camp mainly to comfort herself with goodbyes to those she had grown close to. Glorfindel expressed how he would miss her greatly and how she had added some fun to his life for the while they had known each other and Ecthelion as well albeit to a lesser extent but she still knew she had his friendship. Finrod did not approach the subject of their separation for the first few days and kept closer to his friend Turgon, however he did not become any less affable and would have dinner with her most nights and a few drinks as well. He opened up to her more within that time than he had in the past, she had reminded him of someone he cherished and had to leave back in Aman and maybe this was why he was so drawn to her. He did not mean to cause her any sadness in his reaction and had let himself grow too caught up in his own feelings to properly think of what was best for her. She promised to continue to learn how to write in Quenya and then Sindarin solely because she wished to be able to communicate with him, she was not fond of the written language but would miss her friend greatly. 

The fortnight had passed quicker than the past two months which seemed to drag forever, maybe because she was actually starting to get used to the way things were at the camp. The sudden loss of that familiarity was a little shocking, but she did her best to cope and find comfort that in the future her life would become much more stable, and hopefully more safe than it had been in the past few years in Morgoth's clutches. She hoped that she would find some sense of peace and healing and that by doing so she would eventually be able to gather the strength of her body and will to go out and find her friends. They had been his captives as well, and each had found different ways of escape, she could feel it, the bond that they had between each other was created long before he took them prisoner and was strengthened by the jewels he had used to transform them. They were still alive and out there, and they would find each other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, Kudos and Comments are appreciated, this chapter is nice, there is a turning point coming with this chapter and the next as Anariel begins her journey to Himring.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anariel says goodbye to her new friends and has an argument with a horse. Amrod and Amras prefer to be called by their singular names rather than the collectively plural Ambarussa

“This is farewell, Anariel,” Finrod smiled solemnly at the fire wielder as she stood at the edge of what remained of the Nolofinwen camp, he and several others had gotten up before the sun rose to see her off to the Feanorian camp, where they would be departing back to the lands southeast of Lothlorien.

“For now.” She smiled back, trying to be more chipper, she would miss him, and Glorfindel and Ecthelion, even Fingolfin as standoffish as he could be. “I will write, and as Maedhros said, when I become more...settled, then maybe I will start travelling and pay you all visits, if I can.”

“I will eagerly await your first letter then.” 

“If it is legible.” Turgon said under his breath, though he seemed distant he still tried to lighten the mood.

They must have felt it too, something within her spirit told her, whispering in her ears as she slept and sent uncertainty crawling through her mind, telling her that the future would not be easy. She knew that life has its difficulties, whatever gods ruled this land seemed to make certain of it, or maybe it was their lack of presence that assured it. There may be a brief time of peace now when Morgoth’s armies had seemingly been at bay but she knew first hand that he would be back and there would be a price to pay for the loss that she had caused him, and the shameful defeat he had suffered. He would not underestimate the elves again, and with her becoming their ally she did not doubt he would take them lightly ever again. When she thought too long on it, it made her belly ache and her legs weak, he would be back with a vengeance, it was just a matter of when.

“We should reach Himring within the next two weeks or so, I will send word to Fingon then.” Maedhros interrupted her thoughts with his deep tone. “Please send us a letter as well when you both arrive safely as well.”

Fingolfin nodded, reaching out to grasp Maedhros’ left forearm in some sort of salute or handshake. His face was determined and strong, “farewell then Neylafinwe, it was an honor to fight beside you in battle, I genuinely wish you well until we meet again.”

Maedhros bowed his head, “the honor was mine, My King, I am glad that we were able to stand as a united front against our enemy and be victorious.”

Anariel hesitated one last time before moving closer to Finrod and giving him a hug, he stiffened at first but relaxed nearly instantly and wrapped his arms around him as well, “we will meet again, Pia  nárë .” (little flame)

“I will miss you until then.” She smiled, “I hope it is not too long from now.” Of course, what did it matter if she would not grow old and wither? She should have been grateful for that, it gave her a better chance of knowing that indeed, eventually, she would see her friend again.

She repeated the motion and embraced Glorfindel and Ecthelion as well, wishing them the best and silently wondering if she would see them again, her eerie sense of premonition did not sit well on it. She ignored her gut and smiled at them as well, putting on her best mask to hide her true feelings. Goodbyes for her had always been hard, even when her life was seemingly normal there were times in her life when she was not sure whether a goodbye was temporary or resolute. She had to say farewell to far too many people in her life that had not returned and when she was taken by Morgoth it had only become worse. Anariel could remember one instance in particular when a goodbye for now was actually a farewell that was for life, when her friend walked out of the prison chamber and was never seen again. It was a turning point in their imprisonment, when they knew that their captors were truly cruel and had no regard for their life or wellbeing. 

“We should get going, Anariel, we have a long way to travel.” Maedhros urged her, his fae brushed against hers like a cooling wind, easing her anxiety, “we will see them again.” he assured her.

She nodded, finding the resolve to turn and follow him down the path to where his brothers waited.

*********

Anariel thought she would enjoy riding horseback, she liked horses well enough and found their temperament agreeable, but the horse she was provided must have been a different breed. The horse's name was fitting for being the steed of the fire bender, they called her  Ruinë, which meant Blaze. It must have something to do with her attitude, it took at least fifteen minutes to ‘warm up’ to Anariel, which had caused a riot with the Feanorian brothers who had been trying to help her with the task of mounting the horse. Ruinë obviously did not take well to new riders, and seeing as her previous one had unfortunately been slain in battle, she was not ready for a new one.  Her size alone was daunting, for a mare she was nearly the size of the stallion Maedhros had the privilege of riding, who, like his rider, had an even temperament and even seemed to grow weary of watching Ruin ë and Anariel pretty much argue over whether Anariel would be riding in Ruin ë ’s saddle or not. 

Ruin ë was not bucking or biting at Anariel, but rather refusing to let her climb into her saddle, any time Anariel would approach, she would walk away. A few times she had even let Anariel touch her, lift her leg thinking that she would finally be able to climb into the saddle, and then move. The horse was smarter than an animal had a right to be and liked to play games, at first Anariel was amused, then concerned, and as the brothers around her began to snicker she grew frustrated.

“Come on now, please?  Ruin ë,” Anariel tried not to whine, “why do you not like me? Is it because I forgot to bring an apple?” Horses like apples, right? Food usually is a good way to her heart, could it be the same with horses?

Celegorm was trying to catch his breath from laughing as Anariel stared down the dun coated mare, who returned her glare with an intelligent twinkle, “I apologize dear Anar ë, if I had known that she would be this difficult I would have selected a different mount.”

Anariel nearly snarled at him, “Bull shit you would have, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Well, at least you both have a similar mentality,” Curufin observed, she was coming to find that Celegorm and Curufin were a package deal, “hot tempered and stubborn.”

“I am not!” Anariel cried, though she realized after that she was only proving his point more. Damn these Feanorians.

“Quit feeding the flames then and help her mount the mare, we do not have all morning to waste.” Maedhros ordered calmly.

Feanor had mentioned the gift Celegorm had of speaking to animals to her once, when they had returned from his son’s camp the first time, he saw fit to properly go over his troop of sons and some of their key features. Watching the gift in person was much more interesting than just hearing a lesson on it, Celegorm cleared his throat and stood straight, realizing that his fun was had he decided to actually step forward and help her.  Ruin ë paid attention when he came closer, between Anariel and the horse and his usually cocky demeanor changed subtly, becoming softer and more focused. She could not understand what he was saying as he spoke, making direct eye contact with the horse as he reached out to gently place his hand on her muzzle and smiled fondly. The horse whinnied and shook her mane, looking between Celegorm and Anariel, this had been one of the most magical moments she had witnessed. Other than that one morning…

Celegorm took Anariels hand much more tenderly than she ever expected him to do, and guided her forward to repeat the action of gently patting  Ruin ë’s muzzle, “she misses Varyano, her old rider. However, I told her that you are worthy and kind as he was.” He said softly, Anariel briefly wondered if he could ever be so kind with people as he is with animals. 

Ruin ë nudged her hand, making Anariel smile, “I will be.”

Celegorm smiled as well, “do not make me a liar then,” he continued to help her settle with  Ruin ë by assisting her with mounting, Anariel was still not very familiar with horses, and he did choose one a bit larger than what her legs could manage. “I chose a larger horse for you because it will be easier to balance on and lead, I believe it will make the learning process of riding less stressful for you. Smaller horses are great for speed and are a bit more maneuverable but they also tend to be less cooperative and buck or rear more if they get spooked.”

He patted  Ruin ë’s side once more before going to his own horse, “by the time this trip is over, I expect you both to be on the same page and friends.”

“Now that we are all settled, can we get going, I would like to be able to sleep in my own bed again.” Caranthir spoke, he was quite done with the horse shenanigans ten minutes prior.

“That does sound appealing.” Curufin agreed.

“Let’s be off then.” Maedhros turned his horse and began to lead the party southeast,  Ruin ë followed his lead, thankfully, and they were off to an unknown future.

*****

Horseback riding, as it turns out, was not as appealing or tranquil after traveling for hours at a time only to make it 30 kilometers. At the end of the day, even at a smooth pace and not trotting, Anariels rear and legs would hurt, and it would take her an hour or so to no longer walk around bough legged. It did not help that  Ruin ë was larger and Anariel was rather small in comparison to the other riders, the others did not seem to have the same issues, and she refused to bring it up, rather than be made fun of or scorned she would rather suffer in silence. She would use her powers to warm damp clothes and it helped slightly in relaxing her tense muscles, enough to where she could walk enough to join the others for supper. In the morning she would stretch her muscles and try to do some light exercises before they would take off for the day, and this also helped. When they would take a break from riding for an hour or so she would make the excuse of needing relief to go and stretch her muscles a bit more.

She wished she had some sort of pain relief or a hot bath in order to soothe her muscles, or to just bathe in really. After a few days she began to smell herself, a mixture of sweat, horse and wilderness, and it was not appealing to say the least, Maedhros said that since the terrain will change from flat plains to more steep and rocky and have many more hills and to keep the horses from straining it would more likely be two weeks before they reached their destination. She felt bad for Fingolfin’s party and Finrod, who had a much longer journey, though she supposed they were more used to travelling in this fashion. She wondered why she did not ask for horseback lessons before leaving the camp. 

Anariel still had trouble siphoning off her powers, she would do the same as she did before as they travelled, light fires, help cook, et cetera and she was glad that she went to that pond to alleviate it a little further. Though she did want to expend more of it, just to get the edge off for good, and from there she would control it so that it did not get to that point again. Without a water source nearby to help her if she had lost control she had to be very careful, but she managed, and to be on the safe side and not cause anyone around her unwanted anxiety she went to Maedhros and explained the situation and how she wished to fix it.

She had fallen into joining the twins as they rode, she enjoyed their conversation and found their personalities to be quite agreeable. Despite how they were normally aloof with others and tended to stick to one another, she managed to make friends with them finding that like her, they used sass and wit to cover their true minds. They were sons of Feanor after all, and were clever and talented in their own right. They were not as stoic and cool as Maedhros, and not as hot tempered and dickish as their middle three siblings, she would get along with Maglor as well, but he chose to linger with Maedhros and Maedhros could be rather...boring at times. 

The conversation that they had been having over proper scouting techniques had simmered down, they were to scout ahead, come closer to the evening time to find a proper sight to set up for the night. Anariel mentioned she needed to speak with Maedhros, giving them both a smile before tapping  Ruin ë with her heel as politely as she could manage to speed up and meet with Maedhros at the head of the march. He acknowledged her as she came beside him, finishing a conversation with Maglor before turning to give her his attention.

“I need to speak with you,” Anariel was unsure of how to start the conversation, making it more awkward than she meant.

He raised a brow, “I am all ears,” he thought for a moment, patting his left ear which had lost its pointed tip, “well, three quarters of all ears.”

“That was a rather grim joke, brother.” Maglor tutted, obviously not appreciating the eldests self-deprecating humor.

Maedhros looks at his brother with a deadpan expression, “that was not a joke, Makalaure.”

Anariel still chuckled, he was in a rather good mood to be joking, “um, it’s about...well, I need to...how do I say this?”

She could practically feel Feanor rolling his eyes within her mind, he had taken a back seat within the past few days, finding nothing to add to her conversations or life and chose instead to be passive and watch his sons through her eyes,  _ ‘just spit it out!’ _

Maglor and Maedhros both wore expressions of concern and confusion, “you can be blunt,  Á re, we are all adults here.”

For a brief moment she wondered what they thought she was going to say but shrugged it off and decided to say what was on her mind, “I need to find an output for my fire.”

Maedhros seemed to contemplate what she said, “you have been lighting every fire we set and giving us rather lovely light shows while doing so, this is not enough?”

She had been letting her flare for the dramatics come out while setting the fires for the camp at night, adding little flips, spins or general handling for a little added pizzazz, and it eased the tension slightly, “It is not that I want to show off more, using the fire is like a release of built up tension, if I do not have a safe way of letting it out then I am...worried about the consequences of letting it overflow and not having the ability to control it. Lighting the bonfires and giving a demonstration helps but it is not enough to take the edge completely off, no.”

“What do you mean by this? Your power makes you uncomfortable?” Maglor questioned.

Anariel pursed her lips and nodded, “quite uncomfortable, it is like… you know when you have too much energy in you but no output for it and it feels like you are going to burst?”

“What would be the best method of releasing this pent up energy then?” Maedhros asked. 

“I am still learning truthfully, before when I was,” she hesitated, “when I was in that place they had me train and release it so much that it had never gotten to this point. It has built back up since the battle and I was stupid and did not keep up with my training in order to prevent this from happening.”

“It is not stupid to want to relax and settle down after a war.” he chidded.

Maglor agreed, “let us take care of it now then, before it becomes overwhelming.”

“The way I was doing it in...that place is not safe here, if I engulf myself in the flames and simmer, it is bound to cause a wildfire. However if there is water nearby this is much less likely to happen.” she thought out loud, “and I would also very much appreciate the chance to rinse my body of the stench of travel and horse.”

Ruin ë huffed beneath her as if to say, ‘you do not smell very pleasant yourself.’

“I believe that there is a lake of some sort not too far from here, I will have Ambarussa scout it out if you think you can manage a day or so longer. We will be crossing into territory that is more stone than forest in the next few hours,” Maedhros’ brows furrowed as he thought, a common trait with the Feanorians, “tonight if there is a clear enough area I believe it will be safe if you wish to just ‘engulf yourself in flame and simmer’.”

“Our brothers at least would be entertained by the spectacle.” Maglor looked contemplative, “Celegorm and Curufin may be a bit more reserved about it given their last experience with your fire.”

Anariel smiled at the memory fondly, “ah, well they should take comfort in knowing that I promised myself I would not be setting any more of you Feanorians on fire.”

As Maedhros had said, the plains and flat forest land begin to diminish, after four or five days worth of travel the change of scenery was nice, and welcome. She could feel the level of the land changing as they headed into higher ground and her horse marched on, the path began to change from softer dirt to a gravel mix. She could feel winter's imminent approach better within the hills as the wind began to whistle through the passes, autumn was coming to a close, much faster it seemed here than where they began. Anariel briefly remembered how much she hated the cold and winter in her past life, though she lived in a tundra like climate and had adjusted, she did not like it. Now she could regulate the heat of the air around her, and others to where she no longer was bothered by that cold bite. The others of the party took notice as well, when they went to adjust their cloaks and clothing to the changing temperature she recognized it and concentrated enough to change the air within a twenty foot radius. 

A good amount of Maedhros’ soldiers had already returned to their steads, and only a few others travelled with the band of brothers, mostly those who resided at Himring or at the other brothers various keeps. She learned that they did not all live together, but visited often, and would be staying with Maedhros in Himring after their return until spring to make travel easier. Maglor lived to the east of Maedhros between the hills of Himlad and the beginning of the mountains of Ered Luin, and Caranthir was south of that, his land between the river Gelion and the mountain range. Celegorm and Curufin controlled a portion of land directly south of Himring, which is Himlad proper, then Amras and Amrod had a wide expanse of land they roamed as they wished south of Maedhros and Maglor and between Caranthir, Celegorm and Curufin. Overall it was quite a large expanse of land between all of the brothers, and they used it to do their best and properly guard the southern regions of Beleriand from Morgoth and his ilk. 

Amrod and Amras returned from their scouting as the sun set beyond the horizon; they had been gone for hours after Maedhros sent them off, and the eldest had decided to set camp for the night. By the time they had settled, they were between two hills, both rather barren of life other than some moss growing on the boulders and stones, if Anariel wished she could do as she had been needing to tonight. They slowed their horses to a trot, having decided to race the last bit to the camp and Amras cried out in victory, having won, before jumping off of his horse and greeting Anariel and Maedhros as they waited.

“You were right, Nelyo, there is a lake not too far from here.” he said, patting his horse as it came to rest and painted from the exertion. “But it is an underground lake.”

“However, it does not look too foreboding, not much more than Moryo’s lakeside home actually.” Amrod added, coming by at a slower pace, less enthused of the outcome of the race, “we will make it there by noon tomorrow, it is not far at all.”

“The horses and men could use a break from travel, we could use the extended time to rest properly as Anariel cools off.” ‘Cool off’ a term they had dubbed what she needed to do to release her fire properly and safely. “There does not seem to be much life in that lake other than algae and newts, it should be fine.”

Anariel smiled in thanks towards the twins, “thank you both.” 

“It is no problem, though it would be appreciated if we could use the lake as a hotspring after you are finished.” 

She shrugged, “that is honestly not a bad idea.”

Maedhros rolled his eyes, “I feel this is improper use of your abilities.”

“It is a good way to kill two birds with one stone, I get relief and the whole party gets a warm bath.” Anariel countered.

“Eru knows Curvo can barely tolerate being so filthy anymore, without his beauty routine he has become a complete ass.” Amras commented, the sassier of the two where Amrod was just slightly braver.

Anariel giggled, but Amrod continued, “and we should probably throw Turko in as well, he’s beginning to smell worse than Huan.”

“Enough Ambarussa, the water will likely be too hot to even bother-” Amrod and Amras gave him an odd look, then shared one between one another before continuing as if the elder brother had not even spoken.

“Ah Ambarussa, it is not nice to insult Huan, he smells far better at this point.” Amras said.

“Yes Ambarussa, you are right, Turko’s reek as of late as even caused his hound’s nose to turn.” Amrod agreed.

“So what do you say Neylo?” Amras asked.

Maedhros let out a loud sigh, “I do not think it would be wise, remember the last time he was forced to bathe against his will?” he reminded them, both twins paused for a moment, recalling the memory.

“We can let Anariel go first so she does not have to witness the violence of having to force the feral one to bathe.” Amras asked.

“She will have to go first to warm the water, Ambarussa.” said Amrod.

“Enough of this nonsense, fine, do as you wish!” Maedhros seemed to be thoroughly annoyed.

“Thank you brother!” they chimed at the same time before gathering their horses and leading them to their resting places for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was entertaining to write


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anariel loses control, she and Maedhros has their first heart to heart, Celegorm tries to make a dick joke and Maglor and Curufin miss their wives

The brothers set their resting areas close to one another, surrounding one fire, Anariels small travelling tent was between Maedhros’ and Maglor. The other elves did the same with their friends, there were several circles within the pass, and rank had become much more relaxed since the entire party was on their way home. Some mingled, some did not, but there was no tension. She noticed that as pleasant as the brothers could be with those that traveled with them, they remained distant. Only having genuine conversations and friendships among themselves. It could have been their royal lineage coming to play, however none of them, other than occasionally Maedhros acted very regally. Especially compared to their uncle, Fingolfin. Feanor said the way he raised his sons was not as princes rather as resourceful adventurers, intellectuals and to be independent. They did not focus on politics and aristocracy as much as exploring their own passions and interests. Though they all could be diplomatic and civic if needed, and were brought up to have the proper royal manners as their cousins, they did not seem to use them as much.

Anariel had this discussion silently with Feanor within her mind, staring blankly at the fire in the center of the camp. She had lost concentration of maintaining its smaller size, as it began to grow and blaze brighter, she let tendrils of the flames come to her. They wrapped around her enticingly, whispering to her in a language only she knew, Feanor's voice faded as the flames invited her to join them in their dance. They called to her to be free and become one with them, to rage and find joy in that destruction. She could feel the longing of such power in her bones, to have the ability to give life with her warmth and be worshiped for her radiance. Again, she saw an image of a throne in her mind with her sitting in it, wearing nothing but her flames and a crown that shined as bright as the stars in the sky.

And then she felt her skin burning from the inside, like her blood was boiling and it _hurt_. Her fire was hurting her as it had when she was first created. But before she could scream she heard a song, sung by a deep, commanding voice. It rushed around her like a sweet summer breeze on a blistering day. It urged her to regain control as well as gave vague warnings of what would happen if the fire did not cease. Visions of terror and burning tents and bodies filled her mind.

“Help.” she croaked, falling to her knees, she had not realized she had been standing.

Anariel could feel him now- Maedhros- as he continued to sing, his song becoming more forceful. As the wind began to pull air directly from her lungs, forcing her to slow her breathing but not enough to stop completely. And the fire began to dwindle, as well. She felt Maedhros pushing into her mind, as Finrod had, but more forcefully.

“Focus on reality, reel yourself back in.” he showed her visions of waves of the ocean and long grass dancing in the breeze, a sunrise that's beauty was incomparable to any other, it made her heart long for somewhere unknown to her. She felt herself back simmering back down, “count your breaths to ten, then back down to one.” she did as he said, after another few moments he spoke again, “feel the gravel under your body, and the chill of the air.”

The rocks dug into her palms, knees and shins, she no longer felt her flesh burning or consumed by flames, “can you hear my voice out of your head?” 

She nodded.

“Open your eyes.'' When she did, he was kneeling in front of her, his body blocking her view from the others. His face was void of emotion but his fea was soothing and his voice calm, “here,” he draped his cloak around her body, “cover yourself, let us go for a walk.”

Anariel felt her face warm as she covered herself quickly, pulling the cloth close, “s-sorry.”

“You did not hurt anyone, do not cry.” she did not realize she had been, but when her hand went to feel her face, it was wet, “although I fear you burnt away a part of Ambarussa’s innocence.”

Maedhros helped her to her feet, allowing her to wrap the cloak more securely around her body before moving and began to walk away from the camp. She kept her eyes downcast and avoided eye contact with any of those around her, “I do not think they have seen a naked woman before.”

“We have!” Amrod chimed defensively.

Caranthir sounded doubtful, “you are basically children, I do not believe you.”

Amrod made a noise of outrage, “as if! I saw one breast, I will have you know.”

Caranthir hesitated, “...the other?”

“Amras saw it.”

Maglor cried out in distress, “you are too young for that!”

Amrod and Amras both sounded unimpressed, “we are seven hundred years old.”

Before they were out of hearing range, she heard Amras speak up, “mine had a freckle.”

Anariel giggled through her hiccuping as Maedhros led her farther from the camp. They walked in silence until all they could see was the dim lights of the campfires. Anariel forced herself to feel the bite of the cold air around her, she was unsure if it was the cold or her nerves making her teeth chatter. She had not meant to lose control and mentally chastised herself for doing so. She should have used it more, practiced more to control it. Of course, she never wanted the burden of the power to begin with. And as soon as she gets used to the flames, foolishly thinking she could no longer be burned, she loses it and hurts herself again. She had to check her body was fine, but the terror of feeling herself burning from within was fresh. She could not stand the thought of if she had lost it completely and hurt someone else, she was glad Maedhros was able to help, though she wondered how.

“Elves have magic too, although not as strong as your own.” he knew her thoughts, “through the will of Eru we are gifted magic to harness through the song of creation. My song is of wind and air.”

“When I was staring into the fire earlier, I thought I heard it singing to me, enticing me to…” she shivered. “But it is not always like that.”

“You should limit how much you blame yourself for something you have little control over,” he changed the topic of the conversation and came to a stop.

“I _should_ have more control.” She could feel her temper rising, not at him but at herself.

“I highly doubt Morgoth taught you how to do that, and focused more on your destructive capabilities. Do not punish yourself for being forced to be a weapon.” he remained stoic. 

“During that time I should have learned my limits, figured out how to regain control if I did lose it. I should have figured out every variable that came with this curse. God knows I had the time!” she remembered all the times she literally just sat in her chambers, staring at a wall, and disassociating from her life.

“You had to concentrate on survival and staying alive. It takes precedence over discipline.”

Anariel was crying again, a frustrated noise left her throat, “and what was the use of that? To survive only to wish he would have killed me?” her voice was small in the admittance. 

“I often wonder the same thing.” he said with bitterness.

They stared at one another for a long moment, Anariel sobbed and looked away first, “I hate him.” she said, barely above a whisper.

“I know.”

“I feel as if I can do nothing about it. Sometimes I want to crawl in a hole and rot or let my fire consume me.”

“I tell myself to live for spite, if nothing else.” he mused, chuckling darkly, “but no matter how it hurts, I will continue to fight him, even if it is hopeless to try. If not for myself then for my father and what the Dark Foe had stolen from him, for my grandfather who he murdered with no mercy and for my people who have suffered and sacrificed too much already for his crimes and will likely lose much more.” She could see the light of his soul burning in his eyes, a fierceness that connected with her own. 

Anariel thought of the friends she had and what they went through, the old life she would never return to, and the pain, abuse and humiliation he put them all through, “then I would like to do the same, until the end be it bitter or sweet.”

“That is the spirit!” he grinned at her genuinely, and she was entranced by his charisma, his scars only added to his rugged handsomeness in that moment, as they crinkled around his left eye shined in the moonlight, “then we should begin preparing for that by learning to fully master your powers, and not just their destructive force. Do you have enough energy to burn still?”

She nodded.

“Let enough out to where you will not burn down my camp, then when we get to that lake we will expend the rest.”

“O-okay, turn around then.” Anariel became sheepish and was getting a headache from jumping between so many emotions.

“I have seen you on fire before, what is with the sudden humility?” he raised a brow curiously.

“I am naked under this cape.”

“Yes…?”

“And I do not want to burn it.”

“I appreciate that.”

She sighed in annoyance, “so I will take it off and be naked! Turn. Around.”

“Oh! I apologize, of course.” he turns on his heels and then smiles to himself, “though I hope you realize that because of your...outburst burning your clothes to ash, I as well as all six of my brothers have seen you completely bare.”

“Damn it!” she cursed, throwing the cloak haphazardly to the side before allowing herself to ignite, this time maintaining control.

She let herself burn for as long as it took to be comfortable again. During that time her mind wandered back to when she was cursed with this power. Due to the terror and pain she suffered that day she recalled little, but the memory of her spite and anger was strong. She wondered briefly why she allowed it to dwindle for so long after that moment. She could have made dealing with her much more difficult and possibly that could have helped her escape sooner. However she remembered Morgoth’s sick and oddly placed obsession with her, as pretty as she could be, she was no great beauty and not at all special. It was to the extent he even was willing to destroy her friends, who had become just as powerful in their own right, just to control her. That was why, she recalled bitterly, why she became his doll, his _play thing_. And then when they found out the extent she went to protect them, they shunned her. She decided that night she would join Maedhros’s mentality, as hopeless as it seemed to fight Morgoth. For her friends, even if they turned their backs to her, and for the atrocities he brought to her life.

She also needed to learn more about the person she was following, and felt so connected to. Anariel knew it would be foolish to follow him blindly, even if she trusted him for a reason she was still uncertain of. She had been too passive the past months with the Eldar, it was time to become more active in her own life and learn what it would entail. Finrod taught her language but little of what brought them to migrate from the blessed realm of Aman and the guidance of the Valar. All Feanor had let her know was that Morgoth had murdered his father and stole his greatest treasure which now lay in his crown. She could sense there were more underlying issues and wanted to know more. Anariel would ask Maedhros more when they arrived at his keep. Until then she would focus on the lands they traveled as well as what was in west Beleriand. She would set out to find her friends, even if they abandoned her, and knowing what the lands held would help with that venture. They were all she had left of her old life, and at times it felt like reaching back for those memories was like grasping at spiders silk to try and climb out of an ever deepening pit. She dreaded the thought that they would eventually fade forever as her eternal life passed.

Luckily when they returned to camp, none of the Feanorians remained out of their tents. Anariel was grateful, but knew teasing was bound to come. From Celegrom, at least. Maedhros told her Maglor was more modest and would likely pretend it never happened, Caranthir was not the type to poke fun at others, though it is likely he would not forget and could possibly use it as blackmail in the future. Curufin follows Celegorms lead often, so it was up in the air as to what he would do, and Amrod and Amras were too nice to use the memory maliciously. He did not mention his thoughts on the matter, but the knowledge of him seeing her naked made her more bashful than it would have with the others. She did not meet his gaze for a few days after that incident.

The next morning went as expected, when Anariel exited her tent, and began to disassemble it. They did not always set up tents, for the nights the sky was clear, but she was glad that they did that night. Until Celegorm came to assist. She enjoyed his company more than she was willing to admit, he was playful and gallant and could be considered charming at times. But he was still a jerk, more often than not. Curufin was more charming still but he had a sharp tongue and fun pushing her buttons, he would say something nice but occasionally it would be a backhanded compliment.

“Good morning beautiful ray of sunshine.” Celegorm grinned as he moved to help her fold her tent canvas.

“Laying it on thick this morning, are we?” she responded aloofly.

“I have something else that is thick I could lay-”

“Tyelkormo if you utter even another syllable of what you were going to say I will allow Anariel to roast you like the pig you are.” Maedhros’ commanding voice interrupted his brother's lewd reference, sending a shiver down Anariels spine. From the surprise. The deep tenor of his voice had nothing to do with it. At all. None.

“You were raised better than that.” Curufin came by with his horse in tow, all his belongings packed, “have some class when trying to woo a potential mate.”

“Do not act so high and mighty Curvo, your wife told mine how crude you could be.” Maglor entered the conversation as well.

Curufin smirked, “ah, well, we had our fun.”

“You are married?” Anariel pulled the rest of her tent from Celegorm and put it in her bag. 

“I have a son as well, Telperinquar,” Anariel smiled as his looks softened, maybe he was not always a dick to have a wife and child, “Tyelpe will be one hundred and two this year.”

“He has grown into a fine young ellon.” Celegorm helped her place her stuff on Riane’s back, “maybe you will get along with him, Nárë (flame), he is the youngest of the Noldor who crossed the sea and should be at about your pace mentally.”

Anariel lifted a brow, “if you are calling me a child then you need to reevaluate who you are trying to give lewd one liners to, if you mean to insult my maturity or mental state then again, I suggest you take some time to become more in touch with yourself.”

Caranthir chuckled, he and the rest of his brothers had come to join the others, prepared to leave camp, “if anything the two of you would get along for your quick wit and sense of humor then.”

“I look forward to meeting them then.” Anariel said, placing her pack on Rianes back. “Are you excited to be with them again?”

Maglor and Curufin grew more somber and Maglor answered as Curufin turned to mount his horse, “Unfortunately our wives did not make the journey with us from Valinor like Tyelpe did.”

“O-oh, I am sorry.” Anariel knew that longing, she could never go back to those she loved either.

 _And like you, they are doomed never to return._ Feanor spoke to her bitterly, but when she pressed to know more, he was silent.

As much as Anariel wished to know about the Noldors journey and doom, she still felt skittish around Maedhros. She refused to speak with Celegorm and Curufin was always by his side. Amrod and Amras were oddly silent, though occasionally shared looks, it turns out that they spoke together mainly using Osanwe. Well, if they chose to have a private conversation it was fine. But she grew tired of being left alone with her own thoughts. There was one brother she had not gotten to know yet- Caranthir. He was almost always quiet, and though Maedhros could be stoic, he seemed much colder, always acting like he was in a sour mood.

“Can I help you, fire wielder?” Caranthir turned to her, feeling her attention.

“I-I...Hello.” she really wished she was not so awkward.

“Hello.”

“I was told your lands are towards the east, toward Ered Luin.” she said, trying to find a decent way to start a conversation.

“It is, my halls are by the shores of Lake Helevorn.” his answer was rather plain, he could tell she was bored.

“...Is it pretty?” she was really trying.

His composure broke slightly, he looked confused, why was she speaking with him, out of all of the brothers? “I enjoy it.”

“Do a lot of people live with you?”

“A fair amount dwell within my realm, what is with all the questions? I thought you were to stay in Himring?” he sounded annoyed.

“I am, I am just curious,” Anariel thought for a moment, remembering a bit of information she once overheard, “I have heard a certain type of creature lives that way, in the mountains.”

His brow furrowed, do all Feanorians share this look? “The Naugrim?”

“Yes, what are they like?”

“I have not had many dealings with them, they are savages.” he said matter of factly.

“That is a bit arrogant,” Anariel was blunt, she was not one to tolerate discrimination, “I have been told their smith work is comparable to that of the Noldor.” she was privileged enough in Angband to be in the presence of a few meetings between Sauron, Morgoth and foreigners, and Feanor was able to translate for her as they spoke of certain topics.

“Ridiculous.” Exactly what Feanor said.

“They were the ones who made my battle armor,” she recalled, “it was sturdy and lightweight, it was able to withstand my hottest fires. Plus it was rather pretty.”

“You have a like for pretty things, girl? You have yet to see all the jewels and armor that the Noldor have wrought, the finest work done by any of the elven race.” Caranthir was prideful of his kin, “Curufin in particular is rather skilled in creating ‘pretty’ things, he would take insult to your insinuations that a stunted people’s work is superior.”

“I said nothing of it being superior, only that it is comparable. I have seen the armor of your armies, it is fine, but it still looks rather cumbersome at times.” She remembered her armor and the suit she had beneath it.

“What is your point?” he was growing rather frustrated with her. 

“I just think it might be advantageous to deal with them. They are intelligent enough to create great armor, what else can they do?”

“They obviously are not intelligent enough to avoid dealing with the Dark Lord.” he countered.

“They were his slaves, imagine what they would create for an ally?” she remembered seeing them in the forges, how hard they worked with whips at their backs, she felt pity for them.

He looked cross, but did not argue.

*****

Caranthir did not make for good casual conversation, however he did end up teaching her about a few different cultures. It was enough to make her headache, the elves she had been camping with were called the Eldar, however, that was just a larger subgroup of elves and there were many more. All elves collectively were Quendi, and the elves that made the journey to Aman ages ago were named the Eldar, and there were three subgroups: the Vanyar, the Noldor and the Teleri, known as a group as Calaquendi. The Teleri was the larger host and and subgroups of its own, those that went to Aman and became known as Falmari, Those that remained in Beleriand that she knew as the Sindar or grey elves, and those that left the march of the Teleri east of the Misty Mountains known as the Nandor. Then those whom some afterwards came to Beleriand were the Laiquendi or green elves of Ossiriand. Those that initially joined the journey but were distracted or moved off course were known as Umanyar or the Eldar who were ‘not of Aman’. Then there were ones that refused the summons all together and were called the Avari or the unwilling also. Together with those Teleri that started the journey but remained were called as a group the Moriquendi.

It was rather confusing for her at first, but Caranthir agreed to help her study more since he would be staying the winter in Himring, and she convinced him to make her a chart as well. From what she understood there were many different types of elves, Caranthir explained what he could about the Moriquendi but it had only been sixty years of the sun since the Noldor returned to Beleriand and he was still learning as well. He was able to go into more detail about the Calaquendi, but her brain had nearly turned to mush after the first lesson, so the basics of what she got was that the Noldor (in his opinion because he is a Noldor) are the best, the most creative, crafty and intelligent they were favored by Aule. Though they seem to be the ones to cause the most disturbance and unrest from what she was able to pick up. The Vanyar were described to her as prissy, and haughty, they were the favorites of Manwe and Varda, the Feanorians step grandmother was a Vanyar. And there was the Teleri, who were shipwrights and singers, said to have the fairest voices of the Quendi, though Maglor was said to be the most gifted and he was Noldor. Finrod’s mother was a Falmari.

Anariel found the distinctions interesting, “you say your uncle's mother is Vanyar, if Vanyar are so...uptight, why did your grandfather remarry one?”

“An age old question that would have saved us from a few family arguments and spiffs I am sure.” Maedhros came to join them after a few hours of lessons and pestering. 

“Anariel is a decent pupil,” Caranthir commented, “she asks good questions and listens well. Though her attitude could use some improvement.”

“It is good of you to help her learn more about our people,” Maedhros commended.

“I only did it because she would not stop pestering me.”

“I cannot help that I am bored, Amrod and Amras have been too busy staring at each other to talk to me.” Anariel pouted.

“It is because they are plotting something for when we get to the lake, I am sure they are probably as bored as you are.” Caranthir said, “be careful you are not the victim of one of their pranks.”

“Pranks?” Anariel was low key upset that she was not invited to join in their scheming.

“Yes, they may seem mature as the rest of us, and usually they are, however when they are bored they are terrorists.” Maedhros looked over to them, “and we are approaching the lake as we speak- we should be there within a half hour.”

Anariel’s gaze turned towards the sun above, even in the chill of the land she could still sense the warmth of it, it was a little past noon from the looks of it, “wonderful.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories of Anariels past come back to haunt her, the brothers begin to get curious as to how exactly she got her powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, this whole Covid pandemic has sort of taken a major dump on my mental health. But y'alls comments and love have been providing me with inspiration <3

The cavern was much larger than any Anariel had ever seen before. When she heard the twins telling of the cave even though they said it was quite spacious she was still thinking dark and cramped; this was much different. The opening of the cave was huge and at an odd angle in a stray patch of forest on the side of a large hill. Rather than going straight into the hill it sloped downward, not too extreme as to where you could fall right in, but those who went down into it had to crouch so that they would not tumble especially because there were quite a few large and precarious looking boulders and rocks. The entrance let in enough light to where the grotto was easy to see but the foliage around it and the odd angle made it hard to detect. The horses and whatever supplies couldn’t be carried down had to stay in front of the entrance but those who could scale down were eager to explore. Amrod and Amras were quick to help guide Anariel down the best path so that she would not slip, and the other Feanorians followed behind. 

When they reached the ground level for the cave, boulders and large rocks still lined a few of the walls and bits of rock poked out from the cave walls giving a few different areas to perch. The ground itself faded from larger rocks to pebbles and then to a flat cave floor with a layer of dirt and sand, after a good amount of semi levelness came the dark waters of the lake. The air was a quite a few degrees colder than it was on the surface, and she knew that the lake would be cool enough to handle her heating it up a bit. Anariel watched it apprehensively, it spanned nearly the entirety of what she could see of the cave and was hauntingly still as if it had never seen life; and it was very much possible that it hadn’t. Maedhros had hinted earlier that he had not personally explored this portion of his land very thoroughly, and as she looked back to him she could see through his usual stoic facade that he was also curious, though not as hesitant. The sound of their boots echoed as they crunched against the gravel, and even the faint mutters of Caranthir cursing under his breath as he scaled downward reached her as she went farther into the cavern. 

The longer that Anariel stared at the water, the more her nerves began to take hold; she had never been a strong swimmer to begin with. The pond had been different, more shallow and much much smaller than this, it was also in an open space. For as big the cave was she still began to feel claustrophobic, she could no longer see the sky when she looked above her, and the air smelled too damp and dank. The water was an odd shade of green that grew deeper the farther from the shore that she looked, and her mind began to wander to just how deep the lake was. Looking up was not a good idea for her; the ceiling of the cave was dark and full of  stalactite that were too sharp and excess moisture that had condensation dripping down from them back into the water below. It all seemed so familiar the more she stared into the abyss of the cave though she knew she had not been here before. She thought back to what it had reminded her of and shivered at the memories that began to flood her mind.

Maedhros watched over her from his place at the base of the cave entrance, helping the last of his brothers down the hazardous path. He could tell that she was becoming anxious but held off on helping her to see if she could pull herself out of that state of mind. He had not outright promised to help her mend though he did insinuate that he would at least assist in her learning to control herself. He had been allowing himself to grow close to her within the past few weeks despite at first refusing outright to be the one to help heal her spirit; now he felt almost obligated to do so. He hardly knew a thing about her other than the fact she had been imprisoned by the same cruel power that he had but still they had an invisible bond between their fea. He again refused to acknowledge their tied fates and settled with the thought of his instinct as an elder brother. He would be there for any one of them, and it was possible that he felt the need to take her under his wing as well. She is young after all and in need of guidance.

He was going to let her sort out her own feelings, and he even pulled his mind to think on setting up camp; but as he moved to start grabbing supplies she looked back to him with pleading eyes. Her fea reached for him desperately, and he could not find it in his heart to pull away and his spirit reacted instinctively to provide that comfort she sought. Her emotions were so strong he could see visions in her mind that were tied to the feelings that made her so insecure. In a heartbeat he was taking long strides for her and allowing the wind and air of his fea to brush against her. It was like and unlike a few nights prior when she had lost control and engulfed herself in flames; the helplessness and unease were there but the power was not, now she felt weak and defenseless. There was no more rage and burning lust for strength and dominance, only fear and uncertainty. Maedhros’ hand reached out to sooth her gently, rubbing down from her shoulders and taking her own hand, pulling her close so that she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. Her pupils were wide and her mind was open, reaching to him as if to say ‘see what it is that makes me hurt,’. Her eyes expressed her pain and her need for validation as if she needed him to understand her panic and beseech him to help her. 

He allowed her to show him what her panicked mind needed to express, he knew what it was like to be trapped in a memory, and if this could help her escape the negative feelings that came with it, he was willing to watch. He saw the memory through her eyes and for a split second wondered if Findarato saw her in her mind the same way. She was in a dark space similar to this cave but filled with more grandeur, the floor was made of onyx and there were black pillars holding the ceiling above just as high and dark as the cave they were in now. He knew where this memory took place; he had been in the same place years before- the throne room of Morgoth himself. A sinister laugh and muddled words came from a voice that he recognized all too familiar but he could not make out the words. Maedhros recoiled for a moment, feeling his own heart race and his body tense and grow frigid but Anariels fire was there to counteract that. Before he could shatter the mental strength that he had developed to deal with his trauma with the vision she was showing him, she was able to warm him and the heat fortified his resolve. 

Her vision turned to the side, where a male stood; he was similar to her in features that were like that of a Quendi but different at the same time. He looked desperate and torn as if he was being driven to do something detrimental to her and did not want too. He was trying to speak to her; but her hearing and sight was blurred, she was engulfed in flames and Maedhros could feel her pain, not physical but mental. He had recognized the feeling and sympathized with it; in this moment she had no longer had the will to live and had the resolve to end it. She wanted to let her fire consume her and she was close to burning out all of the energy the fire gave her spirit. Perhaps this is what would have happened if he did not step in the other night when the flames of their campfire had enticed her.

The male was yelling at her, trying to get her to calm down, but she would not, she refused and when the sinister voice spoke from the shadows again, both she and the male grew tense, “don’t do it.” her voice was more broken than Maedhros had ever heard before. He knew the language was not the quenya she had been taught but her native tongue.

There was a mass building around the male now- an impressive amount of water being pulled from seemingly nowhere; but Maedhros could not see much beyond what her vision was allowing. He watched awestruck as the water floated around the male, and felt the pain in Anariels chest as she watched her companion, “please, no! Don’t! Let me- let me die!” she cried to him; but he did not listen.

Her heart was already about to burst from her chest, and she could feel her body growing weak, it was only a matter of time before her goal was achieved. But he would not allow it, her mind flashed to Morgoth in that moment and she cursed him and the control that he had over her and her friends. The mass of water moved so quickly she did not have time to respond, the hissing of water meeting her fire filled her ears as a mist formed around the room. The fire was no longer enough to fend off such a large volume of water and within seconds the flames went out and she was drenched and encased in a bubble of hot water. There was no air left in her lungs and the fire had been suffocated, a heavy sense of hopelessness filled her heart before the vision ended and everything went black.

Maedhros’ body physically repelled from her as he pulled himself from her mind and was brought back into reality, stumbling back and falling to his knees almost unable to catch himself. They were both breathing heavily and her eyes were filled with tears, sobs broke from her small frame making her shake and shiver despite the outrageous temperature around them. After a second of collecting his thoughts he noticed that he was shaking too, his heart was pounding in his chest and the sick feeling that came with memories of Angband filled his stomach. He had been there again; seen the place where he was first forced to kneel to the evil of the world before they had taken their sweet time breaking him. She had shown it to him not knowing what it would do to him; only that he would understand. He could not bring himself to be mad at her for this although it brought back memories that he had spent so long trying to forget. At least she did not show him the faces of their tormentors.

“I-I’m- I am….” She was trying to apologize, but was having a hard time finding words. Her fea danced around his chaotically, knowing that she had hurt him, “I didn’t mean to- I did not know that-”

Maedhros continued to stare at her, he was upset- but not with her. He was enraged that she had to be put through such a hurtful event- that something drove her to the point of wanting to end her existence. He knew the emotions that she had in that moment and would never wish them upon another; but she had been subjected to them by the same persons who had done so to him. “You are not there anymore.” 

She sealed her mouth and took a sharp intake of breath when he first spoke, feeling his anger and worrying that he would take it out on her, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

By now his brothers had gathered around, having witnessed the pull between them start and could only watch as they stared at each other and slowly started to unravel. The Feanorians had all been spiritually strong and could sense something was happening between the two, but knew that interfering could be dangerous. Though some still seemed defensive, Curufin and Caranthir had their hands on their belts, ready to draw weapons to defend their brother. Maglor watched concerned from the cave entrance where he had been helping Celegorm carry down supplies. Amrod and Amras had moved behind Anariel and their faces were the easiest to read- they were worried for her but ready to hold her down if needed. As much as they enjoyed her company and had grown to find friendship in her; their brother was their priority and they would be willing to die to protect him. For as strong as he acted for them and as much as he had cared for them throughout all of their lives he had their loyalty and protection. They did not know the extent or details of what he went through while in Angband but they knew that his mind had suffered for it and they would prevent as much anguish as they could.

“I know.” he said with a nearly broken voice, taking a deep breath and fighting to push down his own anguish. 

Her bottom lip quivered and her jaw clenched, he could see she needed to be reassured and the pain as she heard his voice. “You are mad.” she stated the obvious and he could hear a new wave of fear in her voice. What had she been through to make her fear confrontation to such an extent?

He got back to his feel and sighed, “Not at you.”

His brothers began to relax seeing that he was not in any pain or enraged state, Curufin gave Anariel one last look before going to help Celegorm bring down supplies for the night and Caranthir began setting up a place to make camp. Amrod and Amras slowly moved to explore the cave more, Maglor came to watch Maedhros and Anariels exchange, but kept his distance. He would step in if needed, he had been the one to help Maedhros heal alongside Fingon and knew best of the eldest small tells of his own mental state. Anariel on the other hand, did not really have anyone, a few weeks learning quenya with Finrod isn’t exactly considered a healing rest. Maedhros was negotiating treaties with local peoples and setting up a government of sorts only two months after escaping his thirty year capture, and he had forced himself to do so; his spirit was stronger than most and he was able to choke down his trauma to get things done. Anariel had to learn a language and sleep in a tent the first few weeks of her freedom, after being forced to literally fight her way out of captivity by betraying the army she was supposed to fight for. That and his uncle had been trying to squeeze as much information out of her as possible; she had not really had time to rest as she should. So it was fair that she would have her moments to break down.

Anariel stood still as he slowly approached her, his arms open to show he meant no harm, and his fea began to dance with hers, easing her worry that he was not hostile towards her. When he was close enough she let her head fall against his chest and let out a deep and shaky breath, her body tensed as he wrapped his arms around her. Maybe there was a reason they were connected like this, because she had no one else in this world to help her heal from her trauma. Maedhros knew what it was like to be held captive by the embodiment of darkness and he was the only one who could truly understand the torment her mind was in even after escape. Fate had been kind in this at least, she could only hope that she would not ruin the gift by only taking from the bond rather than putting back the same effort he had.

“Why didn’t he let me die?” she whispered, melting into Maedhros’ arms. She had a similar question a few nights prior.

He was not sure if she was talking about Morgoth or that friend of hers, but tried his best to come up with a satisfactory response, “they were selfish. They needed you too much to let you go.” Maedhros rested his jaw on the top of her head, finding comfort in how well she fit in his arms despite their height difference.

They stood like that for a few moments, the Feanorians began to set up camp around them, the other party members stayed at the entrance having been told to wait until Anariel was done with the lake to enter. They did not want to risk unnecessary injuries, just in case things did not go according to plan. Anariel could feel Feanor in her mind, but her thoughts were still too loud to hear what he had been saying and chose to ignore him and continue to listen to Maedhros’ heartbeat as it slowed down.

Maedhros was the first to speak, only letting her go enough to have her make eye contact with him; her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were red and swollen. “Can you still do this?”

Anariel knew what he meant; she still needed to expend her energy before she became dangerous again. She hated the fear she had for the water, and the environment only made it worse but she would hate it even more if she ended up hurting someone because she could not get over it. This was the safest way to release her fire, and after this she would learn how to control and release little bits at a time so she would not be put into this situation again. She swallowed the bile growing in her throat and nodded solemnly, “y-yes.”

“I will be right here.” he promised, his grey eyes were reassuringly soft, much more so that she could have expected from him given his usual stoic attitude. She was quickly bringing out the gentle side of him he had not openly showed since before coming to Beleriand and he was not sure how to accept it, “I know Tyelko made you mad earlier but he is the best swimmer of all of us, let him stay here while you burn off your fire and the moment it looks like you need help, he will be out there.”

Anariel looks to the side where Celegorm stood, hearing his name caught his attention, rather than making snarky remarks he nods solemnly. She breaks away from the comfort of Maedhros and nods again, finding it hard to make eye contact, “Let’s...let’s get this out of the way then.” She mutters and looks to the lake again.

Maedhros turns back to his family and the grotto, observing just how far the light from the opening of the cave went and where Anariel would feel the least panic in swimming. “Brothers, please vacate the cave, I will call you back when we are done-”

“We still need to set up camp while there is light.” Caranthir interrupted, he was not irritated, only direct, “the cave will get dark before long before the sun sets, we at least have to have some fires started by then.”

Maedhros hesitated, knowing he was right but remembered how uncomfortable Anariel felt when she learned that they had all seen her bare before, but she spoke before he could make a decision, “it’s okay, just um,” she laughed nervously, with a smile trying to hide her negative feelings and let her usual personality come back out, “just don’t look over in this direction. Please.”

Caranthir’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, his stern face was hard to read but he agreed, “Telvo, Pityo, go collect wood for the fires.”

“But we wanna see-”

“Precisely why you are in charge of gathering the kindling.” Maglor interrupted before they could argue.

****

Anariel stepped closer to the water, fiddling with her tunic after already kicking off her boots and socks. She turned to look behind her where the majority of the Feanorians had continued to bring down supplies and start setting up their sleeping areas and a place for a large fire. Celegorm had graciously chosen to sit on a ledge beside the lake and sharpen his knife, promising not to look unless he hears too much splashing. Maedhros had taken off his traveling cloak and watched Anariel carefully, her toes were now wiggling in the water, testing the temperature as if it would matter. She was still nervous, but determined. He could tell that she was not a fan of showing that much emotion or being reliant on others but her little break downs the past few weeks were necessary to release some of the tension she had built up. It would probably be beneficial to allow herself to let out more of that pent up emotion; but they would deal with that after this.

Her hands found the hem of her tunic and she looked back to him, her wide eyes narrowed into feign glares, “I said not to watch me, pervert.”

Celegorm scoffed and chuckled, “yeah Nelyo have some manners.”

Maedhros rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to where Curufin had begun to construct a ring of large rocks for the campfire, “I apologize,  Áre, I forgot how sensitive females can be about their form.”

Anariel huffed and when she was sure that she did not have anyone’s attention she began to disrobe again. There was no use keeping anything on considering it would just burn away so she removed her undergarments as well and put them by the drying cloth she would need when she emerged. It was not that she was ashamed of her body, in fact she had come to accept it- even if it was not the original she was born with. And after gaining some weight back she was rather pleased. But she still had modesty. _ They had all had a glimpse of you naked already.  _ Feanor’s voice chipped in,  _ no need to be shy- any one of my son’s would make a fine mate for you anyways-  _ She wished there was a way to mentally punch the spirit that resided in her mind. He had become rather quiet over the past while she had been traveling with the Feanorians and she had been enjoying the peace of it. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, welcoming the heat of her flame but kept herself from producing it, maintaining a constant output as she stepped into the waters. With each step the water hissed and steamed up around her and although for a fraction of a second she felt it’s cold- it did not last long. It was a relief, as if she was getting a drink of cold water on a hot summer day, soon the soothing feeling of the cold water sucking the heat from her body overcame her anxiety. She was to her knees in water and halted for a moment, taking a deep breath and looking farther out to the waters, it would be getting deeper rather quickly and she knew she would have to swim around to evenly disperse the heat otherwise she would just be boiling in one spot. She also recalled that the Quendi were quite looking forward to the hot springs like environment her heat would create. 

Anariel looked back to see the two escorts just to assure herself that they were still there- Celegorm looked up from his knife and made eye contact with her. He gave her a saucy once over and winked making her blush profusely and her flames erupt around her. His laugh echoed in the cave as she scowled at him and continued out into the water thinking momentarily maybe it would be better to be drowned than to be saved by such a scoundrel as handsome as he was. After a few quick steps she was deep enough to dive in, her body instinctively remembering how to swim out further, her arms pulling her towards darker water. There was a loud hiss in the cavern and steam quickly lifted from the water now as she went and the brothers couldn’t help but to watch, they could no longer see her through the mist anyhow. She continued to monitor her own temperature, slowly increasing the temperature as she moved deep enough to wade. When she noticed the water growing too warm she would swim farther from that spot, even growing brave enough and more confident to dive under the surface and go deeper until she needed air again. Slowly she began to feel more in control, even under the water, the more flame she let loose her body seemed to glow as if it was molten.

She could see farther even though the water was dark, when she stretched out her hand to swim she noticed the light emitting from her body,  _ you have the light of my silmarils within you, your fire comes from them so emitting so much of that power that light has come out.  _ Feanor commented.

_ It’s beautiful,  _ she thought back surfacing again for a breath before swimming farther out and diving even deeper, releasing even more of her flames. She felt a physical relief in doing so; she did not realize how much pressure so much power had put on her, she must have adjusted to it without even realizing. Anariel could only imagine the destructive power it would have if she were to do so without the ice cold waters. The entire cave began to grow humid and full of steam, if Anariel remained too long in one shallow section of the lake the surface would begin to boil and as she moved farther out, she warmed water that was deeper and deeper. But soon she began to tire, and allowed herself to relax enough to float on her back farther out from the shore, trusting the steam to hide her nudity as she continued to let out the flames.

The brothers now watched in amazement, her form was flitting around the water like white molten metal, the steam made it difficult to make out exact details so that it maintained her privacy. The light she let off was oddly familiar to them, pulling their attention to the point that whatever modesty they had promised to give her faded. Maedhros as well as a few others began to wonder what exactly granted her the powers of wielding fire to begin with; he also remembered the document his uncle handed him that warned of others like her. In the vision that she showed him there was a male that wielded water- what had Morgoth done to allow them to do so? It seemed that Maedhros’ intention of keeping his distance from her was laughable at this point, and there was something more than mutual trauma drawing them together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Questions? Guess's as to what will happen next? Leave them all below and inspire me to write more <3
> 
> I sort of caught up to what I have had written in advance so now we are kinda just going with the flow so if you post an idea that I like it's very much possible it can show up in the next few chapters haha


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anariel finally opens up about her past; albeit rather bitterly. I forgot that I hc that elf ears move and stuff with their expressions and emotions. the Feanorians threaten to go feral when she shines bright like a diamond (*cough cough* Silmaril)

Maedhros followed Anariel from the shoreline, watching her glowing form that was so familiar. The whole of the lake was steaming now, when she paused to catch her breath, water would quickly begin to boil. It may be a while before the Eldar were able to go into the water themselves. He was glad she was able to trump her fear, proven when she swam out farther toward the center of the lake where the water was deepest and coldest. But for a moment her spirit waivered. He could tell that her fire was finally beginning to dim, but this was not why.

“Are you well?” he called out, still not able to see her through the fog beyond the glow.

“No lake monsters yet,” she replied, using humor to mask her true mood.

“Good, Pityo was convinced there would be.” he said, matching her humor.

He heard her charming laughter, “just a few more minutes and I’ll be fine.”

“No rush, Tyelko is still anticipating being your savior.” Maedhros continued to jest.

“I wouldn’t want to tempt your brother any further than I already have.” her glow began to return and turned into the tell tale orange flames dancing through the mist on the surface of the water.

“It’s too late- you will probably have to beat him off with a large stick.”

“I am afraid he would actually enjoy that and take it as a form of foreplay.” Anariel’s humor was dirty and risque, she fit in well with the Feanorians.

“I’m right here.” Celegorm said, though he sounded rather entertained as well, “don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Maedhros laughed heartily, surprising his brother and making Anariels chest flutter- she wasn’t sure she had ever heard his laugh but she quite liked it. She began to feel more in control and found herself willing to go deeper into the water. As she dived, she released a more powerful burst of power, heating up the iciest bit of water. She now felt less like a balloon ready to burst, the well of her power was no longer flowing over the brim but at a moderate level. With the release of energy also came a more stable mind. She no longer felt anxious and overwhelmed and more like herself- more so than she had in quite a while. After another few dives she swam toward the shore, where her clothes and a towel waited and pulled herself up from the surface.

“Feeling better?” Maedhros asked, his back now turned to her, giving her privacy. 

She smiled, using her heat to dry her body as she walked completely out of the water, watching her step so she would not slip and embarrass herself, “yes.”

Anariel reached out her hand to grab her clothing and noticed her skin still held an ethereal light, “I am not just saying this to be charming, Pia Nárë, but you have a beautiful glow about you.”

She looked up to meet Celegorms hungry gaze, before she could tell he was being playful and not fully serious with his flirtation but now she was not quite sure and for the first time she felt really uncomfortable around him, “I thought I asked for privacy.”

“He is right.” Maedhros’ voice spoke behind her, he had his back to her for the moment but had turned to scold his brother and saw what he meant, “it is quite enchanting.”

Anariel blushed and quickly pulled her tunic over her head, she noticed a strange look in his eyes as well, before she could comment yet another voice spoke, startling her as it came from the mist, “strangely familiar.” Curufin emerged next to his favorite brother.

She stumbled to put on her leggings not liking the energy shift that had happened so fast, the glow on her skin was quickly dissipating but it did not stop their eyes from watching her every move, “I-I...um,” she didn’t know what to say, “it-it happens when I release a high amount of my powers.” 

“It happened the morning of the battle as well,” Caranthir’s voice called through a thin veil of mist, “you never did tell us where that power of yours came from.”

“Why don’t we discuss this over supper?” Maglor interrupted, seeming to be the only one with the sense not to gang up on Anariel, though she could see a burning curiosity in his eyes as well. Even Amrod and Amras stared, making her increasingly nervous the way they all became predatory, watching her with a near animalistic fixation just because of her radiating light. Their ears were perked up to attention and tilted towards her whereas usually they were relaxed and pressed more towards their heads. She noticed when she first came around them that their ears had  auricular muscles which allowed them to move them much like animals, but hers were limited.

Maedhros nodded in agreement, shaking his head as if trying to shake away his odd behavior, “you’re right,” He looked at Anariel again, more sincerely, “I apologize, I don’t know what came over…” his eyes flickered between his brothers, “over us.”

Anariel nodded, but waited to move until they had slowly disbanded, not even allowing Maedhros near. When she exited the wall of steam that shrouded the lake and cleared up towards the entrance she found a place to sit, quietly beckoning Huan over who had made it into the cave as well. Although she was not sure if he could understand her or not he must have felt her unease and took up the post by her legs, letting her pet his scruff and try to relax again. She sat on a rock near the campsite the Feanorians had created while she had been swimming and observed her surroundings.The had snapped out of their stupor her glow had caused and allowed her space to breathe. Huan remained oddly protective of her for a while as the brothers continued about their chores and chatting; at some point Celegorm and Curufin left and returned with fresh meat to prepare for supper. The hound hardly let anyone within five feet of her, giving Celegorm a wary look when he passed and barely let the Amrod take a spot next to her until Anariel reassured him. 

The others of the party eased their way into the cave as well, building two other campfires and a few others chose to remain at the opening of the cave and stay with the horses. The cave was not as daunting now that it was filled with light and noise, despite the still lingering mist. There was some vegetation growing around the entrance and farther back beyond the lake Amrod and Amras discovered a colony of bats. As the night grew closer they could hear some of the chirps and squeaks and even a few brave ones flew out into the open but did not bother the elves and fireflies danced in the plants. 

Amrod was striking up a conversation with Anariel, easing her mind from the odd behavior he and his brothers had shown her earlier, his ears were now at his normal state and his eyes less intense, “you noticed nothing in the lake? Whatsoever?”

Anariel shook her head, “the water was pretty murky so I am not sure but I do think if there was something living in there it would have made itself known.”

“Damn.” Apparently Amras had convinced him that he saw a tentacle of some sort when they came to scout the area. Anariel was grateful she did not.

Amras had kicked off his boots and was testing the water, dipping his toes into the lake and hissed, “still too hot!” he called over his shoulder.

His twin cursed again and snapped his finger disappointed, “we’ll have to wait until have dinner then.”

Amras came back to sit with Anariel and Amrod, making up for their time neglecting her earlier during the trip that day by pestering her about her swim, “you did quite a job, I believe what few newts or fish that lived there are boiled now.”

Anariel pouted slightly, not having thought of that- though the lake did seem rather lifeless when they first approached, “oh, I’m sorry.” she sounded remorseful.

“It’s alright, it was only a few,” Amrod patted her knee, “they make a good poison for pests, so Moryo is repurposing them. But the fish are all bottom feeders and are not useful.”

Anariels brow furrowed at the comment but before she could question Moryo’s odd usage of dead newts, Curufin came to stand before her. Huan growled at his imposing stance and gave him the hint to back off. Though he hid it well, she could see a little hurt in Curufins eyes. Anariel turned her attention to him, knowing what was eating at him and what he would ask and tried to mentally prepare. Maglor was scooping out bowls of food now, so at least he had waited as the elder brother had suggested. Before anything could be said however Maglor, ever the peace maker among his younger siblings cleared his throat gently, breaking the tension. He handed Anariel and Curufin a bowl of the stew and pulled Curufin back, guiding him to sit.

“Why do you glow like a Silmaril?”

_ Ah, quite direct.  _ Feanor perked up within Anariels mind.

Maglor coughed, choking on his first bite of stew, “Curvo!” he scolded his brother's bluntness. 

“What? We have the right to know- the Silmarils are our birthright, and we all took that oath.” he defended himself, sounding sardonic with his reminder.

With the mention of this, Feanor’s spirit bristled. Thus far Anariel had heard nothing of an oath though the term Silmaril rang a few bells. Images began to flash through her mind as Feanor was triggered, his spirit momentarily overwhelmed her. The brothers waited for her to respond, watching her face fall expressionless as visions of Feanor’s memories were revealed to her. She saw the three gems that were made of a pure light so much like starlight but filled with such warmth and life. Two trees that were larger than life, reaching up to the heavens and shone with the same radiance. She had never seen anything as beautiful or magnificent in her existence. Her body was not her own and for a moment she was in a forge, the only light coming from the sap of these trees collected in crystal bowls and she heard Feanor chanting and a light that was even brighter- holier even- than that of the trees came from within him. She blinked and the gems were in his hands again and he felt an overwhelming amount of pride she dare say was even more profound than when he looked upon his sons. 

Slowly that pride turned bitter and twisted into arrogance, she felt his distrust for those around him and the disdain he held for his siblings grew unbearable. He felt eyes on him at all times, and the jealousy of others- especially the Valar was apparent and made a heavy weight upon his shoulders. These negative feelings only continued to fester until there was a blade pointed at Nolofinwe, and she could see through his eyes the hurt and slight fear his brother had in him. At the time it made him laugh but now he regretted the memory. Things moved too fast for her to see as his mind raced until it came to a sea of red. Stagnant blood pooled at his feet and agony ripped through his being, a heavy mourning like none he had felt before- Anariel gasped in pain as she was shown a corpse of who she knew to be his father- Finwe from the context his mind granted her and an empty vault. 

Maedhros wanted to pull her out of whatever trance she was in and away from the memories obviously haunting her at the mention of his father's jewels. But Curufin was right as well as his six brothers swore that oath and if she knew anything about it the Silmarils they had the right to know. So he waited, taking a seat next to Maglor as minutes passed. No one interrupted her thoughts, her eyes were clouded over and they knew that she was remembering important events. She would tell them so they had to give her time. For the smallest moment during that time he saw a physical change in her- her dark ember eyes that had been dancing with a flame turned a fierce grey with the flames still moving but in a steel color and agony filled her features. But as quickly as it happened, it was gone.

At last Anariel returned to her own memories, ones that she thought she had forgotten but had only repressed. Before when questioned by Fingolfin she remembered little of her transformation, but now it came back in full force. She saw the Silmarils again but this time atop the head of Melkor as he sat on his throne staring down at her and her friends then again some time later upon a pedestal. His lieutenant took them with a pair of blacksmith tongs and dropped them one by one into a bubbling cauldron and she began to feel sick. 

“He used them,” she blinked, trying to drag her consciousness out of the memory, “the Silmarils- he used their magic to…” Anariel held her hands before her, letting a ribbon of flame dance around her fingertips, thankfully someone had taken the bowl from her hands and placed it to the side, “they were the only energy source strong enough to make us...into the weapons he desired.” she said slowly, remembering how she was dragged to the cauldron, her own screams rang in her ears.

“How?”

She began to feel bitter at the memory, “you think that they would tell me?”

“Well- what did you notice- what was it like? Can you explain the process?” Curufin sounded curious, obviously ignoring her tone and discomfort.

Anariel took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes, she wished to just transfer the memory directly to him (now that she knew how to do it) but that would be too cruel… “We had been his prisoners for a long time-”

“We?” he interrupted.

“Shush Curvo, let her continue.” Maedhros scolded, curious himself but knowing that it would probably be best for her mental health to finally let it out.

“We, yes, there were more of my kind.” their faces flash through her mind, it’s hard for her to remember what they were like before Angband, what her own life was like at times. She wasn’t sure if it was because of something Morgoth had done to them or how much time had likely passed, “there were seven originally.”

She could feel the brothers focusing in on her as she continued, it was odd and almost ironic that the number of ‘outsiders’ was equal to the brothers, but that was where the similarities ended. “One died the moment we arrived.” she had hardened her heart to that death long before even escaping and the others could hear it in her voice, “and then another not long after- his lieutenant would run experiments on us to see if he could make us stronger. And...well, Anthony did not come back one day.” They all knew who she was talking about when she said 'his lieutenant' and this Anthony must have been one of her friends.

Her hands were growing cold and she was thankful she nearly drained herself completely of her fire otherwise this little story time might have been going a completely different way, “I don’t know how long we were kept in the dungeons. It was cold and wet constantly, if it wasn’t for the food that we had been force fed and the training regimen we were forced to keep we would have gotten sick. I think that is what happened to Anthony- he was not healthy to begin with and couldn’t keep up. One day he just- he just didn’t come back.”

“They were making you stronger presumably to withstand what they would do to you with the Silmarils.” Curufin concluded.

Anariel nodded and looked back to him from where she had been staring at her own fingers, “I still don’t know how they did it, what sort of potion and spell that they used but they had taken the remaining five of us to the throne room- it was always the throne room for shit like this-” her languages were blurring together, as she cursed, Finrod had actually taught her one or two words but her mind liked her languages better, “there was a large cauldron that was big enough to fit one of us at a time. Sauron dropped all three Silmarils into the potion he had created, and then dragged us one by one to be drowned in it.”

She could still remember how badly it hurt, it was as if her body was being melted and remolded within that cauldron, “the first three of us to be subjected came out with...abilities. The other two only changed physically because the potion had been losing its potency.”

“So there are others like you?” Maedhros wanted to confirm this with what his uncle had found, “what are they capable of?”

“One controls air,” Anariel was keeping herself from getting too lost in the memories, but just barely, “and the other water. They had us train and hone our powers together after that, I can’t really tell you how long that lasted or what other things happened to the gems after that. He continued to wear them in his crown and it was as if they had never been subjected to that potion to begin with. I believe that it was not the fault of the Silmarils that the potion began to fail, but a mix of the other ingredients, the weakness of the cauldron which began to crack and the will of the Silmarils themselves.”

“There were three Silmarils,” Curufin nodded, his genius started to try and put logic into the story he had been told, “so they would only gift three beings in return.”

“The three most powerful fundamentals of our world are fire, water and air.” Caranthir added his own sense to his brother's reasoning. She was quick to catch on when she had met them all originally that Caranthir and Curufin held the most intellectual minds. Not to say that the other five were dull, but held different sorts of smarts.

“Whatever the reasoning thus far, the ‘gift’ that the Silmarils have bestowed upon me are a burden.” Anariel concluded, “I also fail to see their reasoning for giving me such a temperamental element.”

The brothers all eyed her as if to beg the differ, however it was also easily concluded that she had probably changed detrimentally during her captivity. “Our father’s fea sang of fire,” Maedhros commented, “though no one knows how he created the gems, it could very much be possible he used a bit of his own spirit to do so.”

“Yes, but what about the other elements?” Maglor continued.

“We know he somehow used the sap of the two trees to create them, Laurelin was of fire and Telperion was her opposite with water.” Curufin pondered, “and it is often said that the fea are made of the very breath of Eru himself. If he used a piece of his spirit to create it, that would also make sense for the element of air.”

Anariel stood from her spot, quite tired of the speculation and not very happy that she had to take such a dramatic trip down memory lane. “I would suggest making use of the hotspring before it grows cold again,” she turned to the entrance of the cave, “I am going for a walk.”

They watched as she climbed the boulders to the mouth of the cave without turning back, as much as Maedhros wished to follow, he let her have her space. There would be a more private time where they could open up to each other in detail without his brothers interfering. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Feanorians finally arrive at Himring, I give a little too much description to the surroundings, Anariel meets her first elleth.

Anariel had an idea in her mind of what Himring would look like based on what she had been told; a large desolate hill surrounded by barren land. It was indeed desolate and the hill itself was quite large and steep. The Eldar carved a path around the hill just wide enough to fit a wagon along, she supposed it would be easier to defend that way. The path was gravel and if one was not careful at the edge, it could be disastrous. But she could see life despite the lack of large vegetation, small critters in the dense grass at the foot of the hill, birds fluttering about and insects and even some mice in the crevices and cracks of the hill itself. Maedhros pointed to another hill- the closest one for quite some distance- their immortal eyes could see where a large cat creeped along the precarious rocks. It was still hard to see with its gray patterns blending into the stone so easily and Anariel could only see it after Maedhros showed her it was between two certain boulders. He explained that the apex predator of the region was the snow leopard; the pelt was dense enough to survive the frigid winters and camouflage so perfectly they were hardly ever spotted. It was rare that it was so far west however; he said that Caranthir's land was crawling with them, along with several other large breeds of wild cats, so much so they are now officially a part of his emblem. 

She liked the way the air was fresh and crisp as they ascended the hill; she let her fire simmer to let her feel the coolness of it. The wind had her quickly braiding back her hair, but she didn’t mind; to her it sung a vibrant song. The best part was how the sunlight hit the stone, highlighting their natural shimmer and were painted the same reds, yellows and oranges of the late afternoon sun. A thin layer of snow covered the stone as they climbed closer to the peak. Anariel reached out to press her fingers to it, letting the cold seep into her skin. It was soft and fresh, a memory tickled at her mind of before- she lived in a place that had a lot of snow in the winter. Sometimes reaching up to her knees or more. She wondered if it would be the same here.

Maedhros watched her wonder and answered the thought he saw lingering in her eyes, “The air here is usually to dry and thin for much snow, but Moryo’s lands get rather deep most years.”

“Oh,” she tried to hide her disappointment, though her attitude quickly changed when she recalled the work that came with it, “at least you don’t have to shovel very much.”

“I agree, though Moryo’s men get a good workout from it.” he ponders, “and it is lovely.”

“I don’t see him rushing back home to make a snowman.”

Maedhros chuckled, “fair enough.”

The entrance to the city was a large stone door, big enough to allow a wagon or carriage through but not much else. Most of its stature was in its height as were the walls of the city; tall and sleek to avoid the ability to climb over. Crimson flags lined the walls with a golden seven pointed star in their center to inform anyone who came and did not know who this fortress belonged to. Anariel could see guards patrolling the top who called to open the gate. A few of the party waved to them in greeting, she had been told before that most of Maedhros’ troops were guards and sentries stations around his lands. The surrounding lands had settlements where the other soldiers had left to before their party had left; mostly being agricultural and having cultivated the lands. They only came to the fortress for training and had some sort of schedule to rotate out with different regions so that the men of those regions came for a month at a time every 4 months. The fortress housed soldiers and families that stayed year round, those that made up Maedhros’ company that were usually the most elite and well trained soldiers. The families of those soldiers were the staff of the fortress and vendors that took in and sold products brought in by the agricultural people who came to drop off shipments when a unit of soldiers came in to train for their month. Anariel didn’t understand it all, but it seemed to be a rather efficient system and she did not expect anything less from Maedhros who seemed to be very well organized and ran a tight ship. 

She knew by now that Maedhros was more practical than fancy, she still was not surprised to see that the gate had intricate swirling designs carved into it, and when she passed through the opening, she saw the beautiful craftsmanship of the Noldor. The buildings were still proficient but she could see how much care and thought went into constructing them. They were large and stable, with no sign of wear or weathering; the brickwork was tight and immaculate, and a white stucco that was smooth and clean. The roads were made of white and beige stones, kept well maintained and clean, not what she would have expected from a desolate fortress, but she could tell that the residents had pride in their living environment. She could see in the proper seasons many houses had small gardens for flowers and herbs and some had window boxes as well for those plants. The craftsmanship carried over to the iron hinges and handles for the window shutters that were molded into designs similar to the carvings on the gate as well as the railing that was on every set of steps leading into the houses. Anariel had a thought in her mind that the Fortress’s surrounding village would be a lot more rudimentary and medieval in appearance, but she should have known better considering who the population consisted of.

She had not actually seen a settlement of the Quendi yet and this was not disappointing. Maglor once mentioned in passing that his elder brother's lands and fortress was rather dull. She was told that most of the new settlements constructed by the Noldor who arrived just within the past couple centuries had based their work off of what they remembered creating in Valinor, however it was often lacking the grandeur due to dearth of proper equipment. And of course the lands of the east were blessed by the Valar themselves, so it did not have the same etherealness. The local Moriquendi had a much different approach when it came to their homes, castles and fortresses, that worked with nature and kept a more natural approach. She was excited to see more and visit others when she felt more confident and healed. 

People began to line the streets and welcome the returning party. For a while Anariel had only been surrounded by male Quendi who were attractive in their own right- she actually had yet to meet one she would consider unattractive- and the females were just the same. Both were equal in beauty. The only thing that stuck out to her was an odd lack of children there were some that she could deem adolescent but none under that (or well, none short enough to be so in her eyes). While that was curious she could understand not wanting to have babies during such a turbulent time; but accidents were bound to happen...right? She would have to find out more about that later if the curiosity still lingered.

The party came to what she concluded to be a town square of sorts; a large vacant space where there were some shops surrounding and stalls that had been closed for the season. At the center was a fountain, still running and rather deep, she wondered if that was where everyone got their fresh water. Maedhros stood a head taller than most, but to get a better vantage point he stood on the side of the fountain to address his party members who traveled with him from the battlefield. She only remembered the battle in a blur, and she was sure that it meant a world of difference for them than it did to her; both she and the Quendi were fighting for freedom but they were fighting for themselves as well as their loved ones and those of the land whereas she only fought for herself.

“You all fought valiantly,” Maedhros’ voice was deep and commanding, putting on a face of a commander that was stern and brave. It made Anariels heart skip a beat to watch, “from the depths of my heart I thank you for your bravery. We came to this land to forge a new path for ourselves to make a home where we can truly know freedom. It is because of your strength and prowess in battle that we are able to return victorious, we can have pride in saying that we fended off the evil of this world and have come one step closer to that freedom.”

Cheers were heard in the crowd, she could see smiles on the faces of those that fought and the loved ones that had awaited their return. His words were rousing and full of genuine pride in his people, “you are free to do as you wish, I will not require any training regimens or work for my soldiers beyond their regular guard duties for a week. You all deserve a hard earned rest with your families,” he continued, well, he was quick and efficient at least, no drawn out speech, “I thank you all for your bravery.”

As he stepped down he and his brothers mingled with the soldiers for a while longer, getting claps on the back and grateful words with genuine smiles. They were glad to be home, Anariel could feel the happiness and contentment in the air and was glad to watch. For a while she stood to the side with a small smile on her face, wondering what this meant for her. She had not had normality in her life in quite some time, and had always felt tense and ready to run. The past couple of months with the Eldar had soothed her woes slightly, but she was still surrounded by the military and a routine of sorts. It would be a world of a difference being able to finally have a ‘normal’ life again, though this normal would be very different from what it once was. She could hardly remember what her life was like before she was taken by Morgoth, whether he had tried to wipe that time away or her mind did it itself she did not know. Occasionally she would have memories surface given the right circumstances or she would remember something in a dream, but for the most part it was blank. She was not sure if she should be grateful or not.

_ Be grateful. _ Feanor’s voice came to mind,  _ starting a new life knowing that you are safe with my sons and that it will be a new adventure. _

She nodded to herself; he was right. There was no use lingering over a past she hardly remembered and having it bring her misery- though she was determined to find out what happened to her friends.  _ Let yourself heal first; and then you may search for answers. _

After the rally, Anariel was led with the Feanorians to the main building of the fortress which was the base of city operations and military operations for their land. A large castle like construct that was large enough to house all seven brothers, their staff, personal guard and hold offices for city workers as well. It was built on the farthest northern edge of the city where Maedhros could see the lands that stretched for miles; it made it easier to spot an invading force if it ever came from Morgoth. The upper floors held the personal housing, and Anariel was not pleased by how many stairs it took to get there, not because there were too many (the castle only had four storeys not counting the few watch towers that were quite a bit taller) but apparently had they had been created overly high on purpose. To throw off any invaders that happened to get into the castle itself, the residents of the place had gotten used to it, and she would too- eventually. It was around the second storey that Celegorm began to tease her.

As soon as they reached the level that held their personal rooms, they dissipated- going their own directions all very happy to be back from the wilderness and have a more comfortable place to settle into. All but Maedhros would be leaving to their separate posts come spring, but for the winter they would make themselves at home. Anariel was left in the parlor, Maedhros had wanted to stay with her and wait for the person who would take her to her room but after a few minutes he was summoned elsewhere. He apologized profusely before leaving, promising that someone would be by soon.

She had a rough time coming to grips with the fact that she could finally relax. She had lost track of how long she spent in the wild, and before that her housing wasn’t very comforting to say the least. For a long time she stood in the parlor where Maedhros had left her, lost in thought as to what would happen next. When someone finally came to collect her, she had been sitting on the floor. The rug of the room was so soft and pretty. Like most accent pieces of the keep it was a crimson with gold designs. Between the fire burning in a large hearth and warm colors of the furniture the room was cozy. Almost a foreign feeling to her. The maid was rather puzzled seeing her in such a manor, curled on the floor, petting the carpet.

“U-um, Miss?”

Anariel nearly jumped out of her skin, truthfully, she had almost fallen asleep, “oh- hello- hi!”

The maid watched her scrabble to her feet, “sorry for the delay- we also had to prepare a few other rooms-”

She was young- not a child but Anariel was sure that she was younger than the twins at the very least, “it’s fine! I’ve waited a while for my own room, another twenty minutes is nothing when you’ve been sleeping in the woods.” she smiled, trying to ease the elleths nerves. She knew she did not look like a regular Quendi, and it was possible it was intimidating to those she had not yet been around.

“A-alright then, follow me please.” she motioned towards the parlor door.

Anariel did as she was asked, after a minute or so of following down the halls, she grew tired of the awkward silence. If she would be staying here for the winter at least she may as well start to make friends with the staff, “...so what is your name?”

The elleth jumped as she had earlier, but smiled trying to be polite, she had obviously been lost in her own thoughts, “o-oh me? I’m Antisse.” 

“I’m Anariel.” she was beginning to like this shy girl, at least she was polite, “it’s been a while since I’ve been around another girl before,” she admitted, though it sounded silly.

“I had heard rumors that you were found by the High King’s men,” Antisse had obviously no sense of a filter either, “it must have been interesting being surrounded by nothing but soldiers for months.” her tone was almost dreamy.

Anariel chuckled, she could recall having the same yearning for the opposite sex (and sometimes the same) when she was younger...well she would be lying if she said she did not occasionally get that feeling now. But there were more heavy thoughts in her mind lately, “it was not as exciting as you might imagine.”

“No?” she wanted details. Anariel smiled, taking a liking to Antisse’s curiosity and lack of social filter.

“Trust me, as soon as you learn males of most species mostly do ‘exciting’ things to impress potential mates, you will gain some power.” Anariel jested. 

Antisse looked rather deep in thought at this, “I will have to keep that in mind.”

The elleth took Anariel farther into the housing area of the castle, up one more flight of stairs and then a decent walk down a hall that had several other doors lining it, Anariel grew a little nauseous. It was not too cramped, actually the halls were quite spacious (they had to be considering how tall all of the Feanorians were), but it was darker inside without the sunlight. It had been a while since she had been indoors, the last time being within Angband. Though this was not the same- Angband was much darker and someone, probably Curufin, found a way to reflect the light from outdoors using a system of mirrors, and what wasn’t lit by those had lanterns with strange light that was not quite fire. There were tapestries lining the walls, between doors that depicted scenes she was unfamiliar with, but were quite beautiful. So she was able to relax a little knowing without a doubt that Himring was not anything like Angband.

“This is the main hall for sleeping chambers, usually guests would stay in a separate wing but Lord Maedhros wished to have you close.” Again Antisse’s voice had a slightly dreamy tone.

Anariel sighed, this also meant that all of his brothers would be nearby too. “How thick are the walls?”

Antisse must have taken that the wrong way because she giggled, "they are made of stone, so rather dense."

Anariel nodded, at least she could now sleep without their constant snoring and wake without their bickering.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros isn't writing his best friend a love letter. Anariel is super cozy and soft in a pile of blankets. Feanorians don't know when to shut the hell up.
> 
> There may be a hint of mention of sexual trauma towards the end if you squint, or just trauma in general depending how you view it.

Maedhros knew that it would be a little bit of a shock to her to be back indoors after so long of being outside with only a tent separating her from the world. And she wouldn’t know what to expect when the last place she was inside was a dark fortress filled with cold onyx tile, rooms that resembled caves and the constant smell of sulfur. So he did his best to assure Anariel some level of comfort while staying within his home; originally he had written that he just needed a room cleared for her, preferably near his own. Just so he could keep an eye on her. Though after some consideration, he sent a set of his soldiers ahead the day before arriving to change the rooms arrangement. That was really why it had taken a little longer for her to be settled into her designated room and not the others.

He asked that her room be changed from the norm that a guest would have with the colors of his house- which were rather dark and heavy- to something more light and airy. He knew that after being in Angband for so long the darkness could be consuming. So the dark red curtains had been changed to a sheer cream set, the rug exchanged from the dark crimson to a rare floral pattern of cream, brown and blue (it was usually reserved for Fingon when he came to visit since it is his house colors). The servants could not help much when it came to the darker wooden furnishing but they were able to find sheets and heavy down comforters for the winter in lighter colors as well. So as long as she did not stain anything, it was far lighter than any of the other rooms, and felt much less claustrophobic. The large window in the room helped quite a bit, and though it was usually covered up somehow in the winter, Maedhros knew he did not have to worry much about Áre, for obvious reasons.

He had spent far longer than he had anticipated on catching up on his work. When he arrived he knew that he would need to write Fingolfin and Fingon, and drafting those letters took much longer than he had planned. More so the one to Fingon than Fingolfin, who he had written merely to say that he had arrived back at his fortress safe and sound; he decided to keep what Anariel had told them of her powers origin to himself for the time being. Fingon he had written to before even leaving the camp in which he went over how the battle went of course, but also of Anariel and the strange abilities she had. Unfortunately he did not have the privacy to write unabashedly as he had wished, and felt too paranoid that another would read it before it was sent. Now he had the ability to send a hawk out himself without fear that his servants would pry. Maedhros was not a romantic person- at least not anymore; he had also closed his old lover off to those feelings- stating that he no longer felt worthy of that pure love they once had. There was too much darkness in his heart and Findekano deserved someone that did not have that sort of...baggage. Given this, his letter was not of the type sent to a lover...thought it was not quite from ‘just a friend' either perhaps from a...very close friend? That and the feeling he was beginning to feel towards Anariel would be an utter betrayment if he and Fingon _were_ still romantically interested in one another...

Either way Maedhros told Fingon that he had arrived back at Himring safely, and filled him in on details of their trip, though little of it was truly eventful. He included the small episodes with Anariel as well, explaining that as much as he had tried to keep his distance he felt inclined to help her. He felt pity that she was so young and had to go through so much darkness; at least when he was taken he had been fully mature and much, much older. That is how he rationalized their closeness anyways. _To conclude, I am glad to finally have won a tentative peace and to have been able to push Morgoth’s forces back. Anariel was of great help during battle despite only wishing to fight her way out of it and escape him. Your father wishes to find a way to convince her to help in future battles but I doubt that it will happen. She is too traumatized and fighting is just not in her nature. Even though I might have won peace for the land I highly doubt that I will be getting any personally this season with all of my brothers remaining in Himring, and I have yet to discuss plans with Áre and what she wishes to do. Whether she has plans to remain in Himring after winter is yet to be discussed though I will let both you and your father know as soon as I do. I miss your council dearly, your compassion would greatly benefit both her and I; and I selfishly admit that I desire your company solely for the reason of having you near.’_ They were no longer lovers, just close friends. He kept repeating to himself. _‘I hope to see you come spring, it has been too long since our last encounter.’_

Maedhros gazed out the window to his office, finishing his letter, and sending it out with the swift hawk he had asked to be sent to his office; deciding to save the more official work for after supper. He still had to look over the budget for winter, he liked to assure his castle did not hinder the rest of the fortress city in regards to supplies for the harsh season to come. If the castle's budget was too large it would leave less for the city and supplies would be too limited due to the fortress location. Being at the top of a high hill with the only path being a narrow and inclined road covered in ice during the winter. The city residences would soon be purchasing the rest of their stores for the winter when the last of the harvested crops arrived. Usually Maedhros would take meals in his office if he was busy, or just skip a meal all together. But he wanted to see if Anariel was settling well; even if it's only been a few hours.

Before he sent the servant who told him it was time for dinner away, he asked if his brothers would be joining him, “yes sir, though your guest did not answer when Antisse called for her.”

“Hm,” odd, Maedhros had not sensed anything wrong, though now they were separated by stone walls rather than empty space, “very well, thank you.”

His office was attached to his bedchamber, in the same hall as the rooms kept for his brothers and nephew. Amrod and Amras often shared a room, so Maedhros used the spare to house Anariel. He could have kept her in the guest wing or even an apartment of her own, but he felt it was necessary to keep her close. It was the last room before the end of the hall, facing east, so that she could enjoy the morning light. He wondered if she liked the changes to the room, the twins were good about keeping the rooms clean as well, they visited the most- besides Maglor. Maglors room shared a wall with hers, would the minstrel keep her up at night? He did have a habit of practicing and writing his music well into the night.

Maedhros knocked on the door, no answer, “Anariel?” nothing, knocking again, a bit louder he grew concerned when again she did not reply, “I’m coming in.”

He honestly did not know what to expect, he didn’t smell fire, or sense anything wrong. But he knew she usually was not keen on missing a meal. Maedhros was surprised as to what he saw, not that it was bad; quite the contrary actually. He was more stunned at how cozy she was. In the few hours that they had been back in Himring, she had gotten comfortable enough to fall into a dead sleep. Burrowed under the thick down comforter, a nest of pillows and only her sweet face visible. The room was dark enough now to not cause an issue and a fire had been lit keeping the room toasty. It was cute. She even began to lightly snore.

Maedhros sighed, trying not to smile, coming closer, “Áre,” she inhaled deeply, stirring to the sound of his voice, “wake up.”

Her brow furrowed and she made an annoyed noise, “It’s time for dinner.” he said.

Her eyes opened very slightly, “Mh?”

“Yeah,” he ended up smiling despite himself, she was making him much too lax, “and it isn’t Celegorms rabbit stew again.”

“...don’t wanna get up.” she mumbled, covering her face.

He chuckled, “Ambarussa will eat your serving.”

“They better not,” she tried to sound intimidating but it did not work; Maedhros was nearly sure at this point she was just a big softie.

“Then you better get up.”

Anariel groaned, throwing the comforter off dramatically, “what fiends.”

Another surprise, she was wearing a dress now, in her sleep it shifted just enough to show a little too much breast and hung from her shoulder. He immediately scolded himself, averting his eyes. He had already seen her completely before- twice now- and without consent. His mind briefly flashed to how her body glowed, so beautifully- he cleared his throat, “meet me outside when you’re decent-”

She had already scooted her way off the bed and stretched leisurely like a lazy cat, “ah!” she smiled and adjusted her clothing, following him out, “I can’t remember the last time I felt so comfortable.”

He led her out the door and down the hall, “I apologize for interrupting your nap then. You did look snug and cute-” not what he had meant to say. Did he mean cuddly? That wouldn’t have been good either…

She blushed, but when she saw his face she laughed it off, “I know, I’m adorable, I can’t help it.”

Maedhros sighed, “don’t think it will get you anywhere.”

Anariel smiled and framed her face with her hands which to his dismay only made her cuter, especially with her bedhead, “it did with a few of your brothers, maybe I’ll take advantage of that.”

Maedhros was stunned and gave her a stern look, “Anariel!”

“Maedhros!”

  
  
  
  


****

  
  


Anariel couldn’t get the frizz from her bed head to quite stay down, but she still looked presentable. She blamed the bath she took upon arriving in her rooms. She failed to fully dry her hair before curling up in bed, but she couldn't resist the temptation of the softness. She loved the room she was given, yes the stone was a bit claustrophobic but the lightness of the colors and fabric of the room made up for it. She had even found a wardrobe full of dresses and tunics for her, a few drawers of legging and pants as well as socks and underwear. She wasn’t sure how the staff had gotten her sizing but nearly everything fit just the right way, maybe a bit bigger than what she needed but she still had a bit of weight to gain before being considered fully healthy. She particularly liked the one, a flowing and airy gown made with silken materials, kept a light color like those in her room. She was secretly glad there was not more red and oranges to represent her fire powers, it would have been too much like what she had been forced to wear when she lived in captivity. 

When they arrived at the dining hall which wasn’t too far from the residential area, they had been late and the last to arrive. It surprised her a little, but she was quite heavily asleep, “it’s about time you showed up.” Curufin scolded.

“Kano refused to let us start without you, if the food is cold Anariel, we expect you to warm it.” Celegorm added.

She rolled her eyes, “ah yes, I will char it for you now if you’d like.”

Maedhros took his seat and motioned for her to follow, “I would appreciate it if our first supper around a table in months is not filled with bickering.”

Anariel smirked at Celegorm and Curufin feeling as if she had won the slightly petty battle of smart ass remarks (or at least got the last word in) and finally noticed a newcomer. He sat between Curufin and Celegorm, and looked oddly familiar, like Curufin who took after Feanor, he did as well, but whereas his father had inherited the more harsh look, he looked softer, more kind. “Anariel, I would like you to meet my son, Telperinquar.” Curufin spoke haughtily, noticing her curiosity. “Those of this land call him Celebrimbor.”

_Tyelpe._ Feanor sighed in recognition, a flash of memory passed by her mind's eye of Curufin holding a small child in his arms, both smiling brightly at Feanor, a smile unlike any she had seen on his son's face during her time knowing him. He was rather handsome, Curufin and Feanor were as well in the same sense but Anariel was more attracted to his gentle demeanor. _He got that from his mother._ Feanor spoke to her, showing her a picture of Curufin and his wife together, she was quite beautiful. Anariel could see the more subtle differences between father and son now, the eye shape was very slightly different which gave Celebrimbor his kinder gaze, and his skin was a shade or two darker. His build was also a bit larger, she assumed it was because he also had shared the love of the forge; Curufin was more of an inventor whereas his son must have been more hands on in the making and forging. 

He stood and bowed slightly to her, “call me Tyelpe, please.” he smiled at her and her heart skipped a beat.

_Oh and here I thought you were falling for my eldest? Well I suppose Tyelpe is about your level in maturity._ Feanor commented. Anariel shoved him to the back of her mind, she already heard that joke from Celegorm. _It is not meant to be an insult only that you may get along-_

“Nice to meet you Tyelpe,” she smiled back taking a seat, “sorry I’m late.”

“She was snoring like an old dog.” Amras commented.

“Telvo.” Maedhros’ tone was warning.

“I apologize, I haven’t gotten a good night's rest since dealing with all seven of _you_ snoring through your tents each night.” Anariel said back, though not giving much weight to her jibe, she was too busy staring down her food- it definitely looked much more appetizing than Celegorm’s rabbit stew.

Maedhros sighed, he really was not sure how he would be able to deal with all of his brothers _and_ Anariel throughout the entire winter. “Tyelpe, I am sure your father informed you about Anariel, she will be staying with us through the season.”

Tyelpe tilted his head curiously, “where will you go after the snow melts?”

Anariel tried to wait until someone else began to eat, so she did not look too eager, “I am...not yet sure.” She smiled and gave a small huff of a laugh, “I have to do some research first.”

The young elf looked confused still, but was too polite to say what was on his mind, “...oh.”

“Don’t tell me you have already grown fond of her, it’s only been five minutes.” Celegorm guffawed at his nephew's reaction, “she is beautiful, súyon (nephew), but quite a handful, be careful where you place your affections.”

Tyelpe’s cheeks turned slightly pink, “I was only wondering why Uncle Nelyo would let his beloved leave his side with such nonchalance.” 

Anariel felt her face warming, and Maedhros had inconveniently began to eat, and began to cough at Tyelpe’s words, “What- what exactly has your father said about Anariel?”

“Well, when I wrote to him,” Curufin wiped his mouth before speaking with a smirk, “it was before we left the battle camp. I thought the two of you would have made more progress by now, and explained that the two of you seemed to hold some affection for one another.”

Anariel sighed and began to pick at her food, she really didn’t have much of a comment. She had presumed from day one that Maedhros’ brothers were all in some way or another placing bets on what would happen between them. Considering from the get go Celegorm and Curufin had tried to convince her to choose their eldest brother as her ‘mate’ anyways. It was not all that surprising that they would let others know as well, and it was not like she and Maedhros didn’t have some unspoken tension; she would hardly call it romantic at the moment, perhaps some affection was beginning to grow. But he made no move beyond friendship and the concern he showed was likely due to the bond they had linked by ‘trauma’ or ‘fate’ or whatever it was...She didn’t think he would have an interest in her; especially since Celegorm actually expressed more attraction to her than he did. And how did she feel? She did like the fact that he was open to her, and seemed to genuinely care about her feelings, after all he was the one who always asked if she was okay or to make sure she did not go into a full mental breakdown. He was also quite handsome. But the idea of...romance was not at the forefront of her mind as of late. She was just glad to have a friend.

“Look who is lost in thought at just the notion of that affection, Maitimo.” Curufin said cheekily. “You know, our mother named him wisely, Maitimo- meaning ‘well shaped one’, he is quite dapper, his scars only make him more ruggedly so.” he said with little finesse. “And his body-”

“Enough!” Maedhros gave Curufin a harsh look that made Anariel shiver, as if to say _back down_.

“Why is it whenever the subject of romance is brought up, you and Tyelko insist on butting in, yet have the least charm?” Maglor chimed in, giving Anariel an apologetic look.

“There is no romance though brother,” Celegorm sighed dramatically, “they both refuse to make a move despite the sickening tension that everyone seems to feel at this point but them- she’s basically fair game to Tyelpe at this point for Eru’s sake-”

“You’re just mad because she won’t fuck you.” Caranthir said calmly while taking a bite of his steak. Anariel took a deep drink of the red wine she had been presented with.

“Only because I haven’t knocked on her door yet.” Celegorm grinned at Anariel like a cat watching it’s prey.

Tyelpe now looked uncomfortable at this point, and although she knew he was trying to avoid eye contact, his eyes kept meeting hers, as if judging her reactions, “I do not believe this is proper dinner conversation-”

Amrod and Amras were giving each other a look that said they were speaking mind to mind, one snickered, “and how do you know she is interested in any of us? She was rather friendly with Findarato.”

Caranthir pointed his knife at them with the same nonchalance, “they have a point.”

“In that case maybe she is into the softer type- Telvo or Kano have a chance then.” Amrod pointed out. 

Amras nodded, "hm, Kano has seemed rather lonely as of late, he could use the company." 

Maglor glowered at him, "I am a married ellon." 

"Married yes, but your wife is so far, and Anariel is right next door."

She ate her meal as if it would distract her from the fact seven males were discussing her love life and interests, Maedhros rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “if this discussion does not stop in the next five seconds I will be sure that none of you have the proper _tools_ to even try to bed her.” His hard gaze met each of their eyes, “she is not a bitch to breed or a random elleth to wed off. She is our guest and deserves some amount of respect!”

“Awe see- he does have feelings for you ‘Áre’,” he used the nickname Maedhros had given her in a mocking tone, “or he wouldn’t be so upset.” Celegorm smirked.

Anariel took another swig of wine, then a deep breath in, and then let it out slowly, “I will have you all know that not all people are as **fucking** _horny_ as you all seem to be. If you need to get laid that is not my problem.” Everyone had some sort of raised brow or surprised expression at her, “And if it hasn’t occurred in those pea sized little brains of yours that I have been through enough trauma to not even think about touching a damned penis, this is your wake up call!”

The room was silent for a few minutes, the sounds of utensils scraping across plates, Anariel had finished her glass of wine and moved on to drink Maedhros’ who surprisingly didn’t argue, “just because I act fine most of the time, doesn’t mean I am,” she said quietly, and even more so she added on, “as much as I would love to be held by another...I...I’m just not ready.”

“I apologize, Pia nárë, we took it too far.” Celegorm bowed his head respectfully. 

A quiet murmur of apologies circled the table, and she knew they were sincere, “now, can we please eat a relatively peaceful meal?” she sighed and finished another glass of wine.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros might be growing soft. Tyelpe sees Anariels fire for the first time. Time begins to pass in Himring.
> 
> Again a chapter with more detail than conversation, but there is a little development as well!

Maedhros went to check in on her after that dinner he came to her room when he was sure the others were all occupied to personally apologize, “I don’t know what has gotten into them,” he said, looking genuinely upset, “yes they get...rowdy at times however they are not usually so out of term.” 

Anariel sighed, laying in her blankets wallowing in her own warmth, the wine in her system left her rather buzzed, “you know, Mae, I wouldn’t actually mind it,” she thought for a moment, trying to keep her feelings from spilling into tears, “to be held,” her breath quivered, in that very moment she couldn’t help but to long for him… just to wrap his arms around her until she fell asleep. Nothing sexual, just comfort. “To be...to be cherished. But...I’m scared.” 

He nodded, keeping his distance, sitting in a chair beside the fireplace, neither bothering to make eye contact, “I understand better than most.” he thought of Fingon, how badly he longed to be with him again, but the thought of such for as little sense as his reasoning made, was painful.

“Will you stay with me a while longer?” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Of course.”

He stayed with her until she was sound asleep, curled in her cocoon of blankets and snoring peacefully; she still spoke in her sleep, mostly in her own tongue, but sometimes in Quenya telling him secrets that he would never tell another. He stayed until he was sure she would not wake from nightmares, his fea kept going to caress her and to assure her that she was safe and hers brushing against his warmly, thankfully. He stayed until the fire was low in the hearth and the sky began to lighten with the first rays of sun. Maedhros did not sleep much to begin with, but watching her sleep brought peace to his mind, and for a few minutes he may have dozed off in that chair. But he was gone ere she woke, before he left he looked back one last time to see her begin to glow in the sunlight. In her sleep she had corrected herself to lay on her back, her hair fanned around her in a halo of chestnut, bronze and some gold and the light of the Silmaril shined as her skin made contact with the first sunlight. Her face was soft and relaxed, he let himself think for a moment that if she was ever ready to be held by another, he had hoped to be the one she would ask.

  
  


****

Poor Tyelpe did not speak to Anariel much to begin with; the first few nights at dinner he kept mostly to himself. When he was spoken to he was polite and held a smile, but other than that he was quiet. At first she felt bad, her outburst must have made him uncomfortable, that and his uncles prodding at her sexual interests on their very first night together was uncalled for. But after a week or so she saw that he was just more introverted, she noticed that he seldom spoke to another in general. When she would see him about, he was either by himself or a passive party between usually his father and Celegorm. Anariel spent a lot of her time on her own as well, she was still a little upset at the Feanorians and how they just did not seem to care about her personal feelings and she felt exploited as a tool for probing their eldest brother. The only time she bothered with them was at mealtime, the majority of the other time she spent either in her room, trying to perfect her reading and writing skills with the silent tutelage of Feanor. In the mornings as the sun rose, before anyone else of the household was awake, she found an empty peristyle to practice with and expend her fire. She was sure there were guards watching her when they made their morning patrols, but no one dared to bother the fire wielder. She practiced more moves for control than just explosive power moves. Seeing how long she could keep a flame burning at a steady rate in a certain shape or at a specific temperature. She slowed her usually quick and precise movements down to see if she could add new form to her techniques. There were a few times she was quite happy that winter had come and most of the plant life in the little area was already dead. But that was her routine, wake up in the morning, do some stretches in her bedroom before changing into leggings and a sleeveless bustier (which she had to design and convince Antisse to have made for her) so that she would not singe her other clothing, and find her peristyle.

It was there one morning not too long after her arrival in Himring Tyelpe approached her. She had worked up a sweat, practicing making and maintaining several shields of fire. Out of those shields she was able to launch balls of flame, though that took concentration. Still, she considered it progress from just punching and kicking out the fire which was harder to control. She tried to remember how Adam was able to use fluid motions to control his element, and mocked that style. She found an odd balance using water control techniques to wield her fire and briefly wondered what would have happened if they were trained to work together rather than to fight one another. Tyelpe had been watching for a few minutes from the shadows of a column not far from where she had set her spare tunic and a canister of water. He was only passing by but couldn’t help but to get distracted from his destination. She heard his approach and did not mind; thinking he would leave eventually. 

But when he didn’t she sighed, turning to look at him, “I don’t usually enjoy having bystanders.” 

He jerked from his leaning position, “I-I oh, I apologize-”

She smiled reassuringly, she hadn’t meant to evoke that reaction, believing he’d respond more like Curufin with some retort, “It’s alright, you were just curious.”

“I was going to the forge and, ah,” he chuckled nervously, “got distracted.”

“Oh,” she began to simmer down, cooling her body temperature, it was close to time to wrap up anyways, “It’s rather early, you’re not going to breakfast?” 

“I stopped by the kitchens first- I have a project I’m working on-” he continued to stamper, she almost found his jitters cute.

She couldn’t help but giggle, she hadn't seen an elf so nervous before, “that’s fine, I was just wondering.” Anariel thought for a moment, “what kind of project?” this had to be the longest conversation she had with him yet.

“Well,” he smiled again, relaxing a bit,” it’s actually a surprise.”

Her brow shot up, she loved surprises, “oh really?” she began to play coy, her curiosity sparked, “what kind?”

He watched as she approached and avoided eye contact, “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“Oh, so it’s for me?” she smiled devilishly.

“No! N-not necessarily-”

“Well, if it isn’t for me, I don’t see the harm in giving me a hint at least.” She did her best to appear innocent. 

“Stop trying to hustle my son into telling you,” Curufin’s voice sounded from the direction Tyelpe was heading, “you will know when it is time for you to know.”

“Father!” Tyelpe looked relieved, “I was just headed your way, I was distracted- Anariel’s fire is indeed as impressive as you have said!” 

Curufin nodded, “Indeed,” he repeated, Anariel was pleasantly surprised that Curufin had praised her at all, let alone to his son, “wait until you see it at its full potential- but for now we have work to do.”

“Ah, you ruin my fun.” She feigned hurt, having been caught red handed.

“You must be careful Tyelpe, her conniving ways are easy to fall for.” he jested.

“Yes, careful, I may trick you into being my friend.” she rolled her eyes, ready to leave.

“I wouldn’t mind being your friend.” Anariel's eyes shot up to meet him, and his bright smile.

She smiled back happily, there was not a hint of tension in his smile, as easily as she could see his nerves she saw his honesty and she liked that quite a bit, “g-great!”

“Now that that is established, you may play with your new friend later,” Curufin began to usher him away, “we need to finish that _surprise_ some time before spring.” he turned to her once more and smiled, “Moryo wishes to speak with you, so hurry to breakfast, you know what his temper is like if you are late.” 

Anariel nodded, curious again, but he walked away before she could ask. She sighed, putting on a tunic before making her way to the dining hall. Caranthir had wanted to speak to her to make good on their deal to teach her more about the culture and history of Quendi. Now that they had the time and Anariel had begun to adjust to being in Himring he figured that it would be best to begin. He said that he would meet with her for these lessons after breakfast each day until he deemed her properly educated. She got the idea that he was a strict teacher, but she had always enjoyed learning about different cultures so she was not too concerned. She also learned out of all of the seven Feanorian brothers, she preferred the company of Maedhros, Maglor and Caranthir the most, they were the most sensible and despite Caranthir’s sharp tongue, he often had a well thought reason for what he said. Maglor was the kindest by far of the brothers and would often check on her when Maedhros did not or offered her polite conversation that was more enjoyable than the others. Maedhros understood her the most, and was comforting despite his usual stoic attitude, he might be quiet more often than not or seem cold but she found solace in just being by his side and found that he was quite kind under his cool mask. 

She also would need to learn yet another language and Maedhros having inherited his father’s love for language offered to teach her in his spare time in the evenings. If he did not have time then Caranthir would take over, as he often had business to attend to running the fortress or trying to hold and create political ties within Beleriand. (She had to remember that they were relatively new to the lands of the East as well, having only been there for maybe seventy years of the sun...and the sun was a new thing as well… from whatever memories she could muster up- there had always been a sun and moon!)She was not looking forward to learning the new language, she had just become comfortable with Quenya and Feanor still gave her grief about her supposed accent. Although she tried to argue, Caranthir insisted that it would be vital if she ever wished to be on her own or a part of these lands since it was the predominant language. At least she knew a little, which she started to learn in Angband, and whatever changes had been made to her seemed to make it easier to comprehend information and learn. In the end she figured this was a better way to spend her time. She had also asked Maedhros to let her know if any word came in about the others that held power like hers, which he assured her that he would. This would help her better plan her actions when the seasons changed and she was more ready to be on her own. 

She had written a letter to Finrod a few days after arriving in Himring, letting him know that she had gotten there safely and filled him in on the mostly uneventful trip. She did not mention her several ‘breakdowns’ though she did let him know that her time with Maedhros had been having a positive effect on her. Anariel told of how she missed spending time with him and that she preferred his lessons over Caranthir- and that was before his official lessons had begun. She also asked about his siblings knowing that he was missing them and that perhaps in the coming spring or summer when she felt more up to it that she would like to come to meet them. Lastly she asked if he could let her know if he heard or saw anything about her friends, other than the Feanorians he was the only one who knew about them. He had been in her mind to see and witness what she had gone through which she also believed led to some form of healing for her. She was grateful and wanted to find a way to show it when she could. 

Anariel began to settle into her routine of normal more as weeks began to pass. It was almost boring- but she was glad it was; there were no evils hiding around the corner or the threat of punishment for small mistakes or missteps. There was no fear of a master beckoning her or hurting her or those that she cared about. It was difficult to get used to, even after months now of being out of his clutches. She had no more intense ‘training’ battles to face against his dark soldiers the elves dubbed balrogs or worse- her friends- to show their improvements they were often pinned against one another. Although she had a relative schedule it was not so tight that she hardly had room to breath- she did not have to fear punishment if she did not follow. She had no lock on her door to keep her in, she could leave her room whenever she pleased and did not have a time where she had to be back. It took her an absurd amount of time to realize that she did not have to go back to her room right after a meal or lesson- she could go anywhere in the castle she pleased- Maedhros had offered to guide her around the fortress city even if she desired. Her room was no longer a prison, but a sanctuary- she felt at peace there and when she was closed within it for hours it was her own choice. She had even begun to add her own little decorations- small nick nacks that the twins would find interesting and bring her from their hunts (while the path down the hill was still possible), trinkets that Tyelpe would make her in the forges (though they were not the surprise he had let slip before) and maps and charts Caranthir would make for her to study. Maglor had even gifted her a finger harp which he insisted was easy to learn and had been teaching her as well.

Most days were good, she could go through a few now with less...issues as to when she first escaped. She did not jump too high at loud voices or cower back- especially since she lived now with a rather rambunctious bunch. She did not ‘zone out’ and fall back into thoughts of before, memories of her entrapment as often, though there were some days that a quiet moment alone was all it took. She had a hard time still falling asleep when she was not utterly exhausted and nightmares still haunted her several nights a week. Sometimes she could stand to lay awake alone until the sun came up and the day was ready to begin; and the times that she could not, Maedhros was there.

He did not sleep much either she learned, and he had the same habit of wondering when his mind would not let him rest. She did not want to bother him at first- she had begun to walk the corridors to hopefully tire herself enough to rest again and ran into him on accident. She intended to turn the other way, to turn back to her room and let him be as he watched the stars in the sky- but she longed for his company. He was able to sense her of course, and invited her to join. Since then it was a regular occurrence, there was hardly a night she woke that he was not already making his rounds about the castle. There were many open corridors to watch the sky and land around them, and the gardens although smaller than what she had expected were still enough to amble through. Even as the weather grew too cold for most to stand being outside or exposed to the elements they would be in the peristyle or garden watching the moon. Anariel was able to keep them both warm, Maedhros had never minded the cold, but he enjoyed her warmth. Maedhros did not often ask questions about her nightmares, but if she wanted to talk, he would listen. If she cried, he offered her his shoulder, there was never any judgement.

When they did speak these nights, their voices were quiet and soft, “Do you ever miss Valinor?” she asked one night as they sat in the gardens and watched the first heavy snow of the winter begin to drift around them.

“Sometimes.” He did not take his eyes from the sky as the moon reflected on the snowflakes as it peaked from around the clouds, “do you miss your homeland?”

She rested her head against his shoulder, “sometimes.” but often her memory of the place failed her, she wondered if it was really any better than where she was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on a little trip at the end of this week into next week, so the next chapter might be a little late, but let me know what you think. I am trying to come up with fun little side stories or filler ideas for Himring so if you have any, comment or message me, or if you have a guess at what happens next!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caranthir has a little realization about Anariel. Anariel pesters Tyelpe about the secret surprise. Antisse and Anariel have some 'girl time' and Maedhros lets her sleep in his office.
> 
> Time is beginning to pass in Himring, here are some snippets of everyday life.

“So the Valar are basically Gods?” Anariel clutched her head, elbows resting on the table, not quite believing what Caranthir was telling her. Today they were going over the creation story of Arda- though the way Caranthir was explaining it, it sounded as if he believed it all to be fact. To her it was too fantastical.

“No...That is Eru, the One.” Caranthir corrected.

“But they created the world.”

“They molded it to fit Eru’s vision.”

“But they literally shaped mountains!” she exclaimed, “and oceans, and made plants- _stars_! That one made the stars!” Anariel could not make sense of it, from what she remembered of her world and how it worked. “They aren’t gods then- but they are too powerful to be...ugh. And you’re sure they are real? Have you met one?”

“Curvo worked with Aule regularly with our father and Tyelko was an apprentice of Orome,” he said, “I have seen Manwe and Varda during the festival celebrating the Awakening of the Quendi and my grandfather was guided to Aman by Orome. You have met one yourself- Morgoth was once counted among the Valar.”

“Morgoth?” it clicked then for Anariel, it made sense then. Of course he was so powerful he would basically be a deity.

“Vala.” he corrected her again, “and he is not considered one anymore but yes, he once held that title and strength.” he said steadily, watching the realization flood her face.

“But he’s still so strong,” she looked lost in thought for a moment, “he may not have that title, but he is still…”

“Yes, as far as we know,” Caranthir agreed, “but Manwe declared upon Morgoth's betrayal that he would no longer be, his strength will wither the farther he strays from Eru’s vision.”

Anariel sat back in her chair and let out a long breath, “and Sauron?”

“He is a Maia.”

“A lesser Valar?”

“Vala.” Caranthir sighed at the third correction, “Valar, Maiar and Ainur is plural and Vala, Maia and Ainu is singular. And no, both Maiar and Valar are considered Ainur, however they are different from one another. A Vala is much much stronger, a personification of power in this world, there are only fourteen. A Maia is still much more powerful than a Quendi however they do not compare to the capacity of a Vala.” he grabbed a piece of paper and began to write, “the Maiar are ‘assistants’ to the Valar, they were sent to help the Valar with their molding and maintenance of the world. They are much more numerous, some more powerful than others.”

“Like Sauron?”

“Yes, there are other maia who have strayed as well, though are not as powerful. They are called Balrogs.”

Anariel sat back for a moment, a memory flashing in her mind. The smell of brimstone, fiery whips, deep voices taunting her with dark speech, “they had me fight a balrog. To show my worth.” she muttered.

Caranthir’s brow lifted in genuine interest, usually he did not show it with her trauma- his approach is if they don’t talk about it, it doesn’t hurt- “...and how did that go?”

Anariel shrugged, not letting memories ruin her day, “I held out pretty well,” she actually began to feel proud now knowing their true nature, “but fire against fire spirits only gets you so far.”

“Ah, that is more than what others can say.” he finished writing and handed her a note with a chart of words in their singular and plural forms and the power chain of the Ainur.

“My friend who controls water actually managed to subdue one.” she continued.

Caranthir looked honestly impressed, “really?”

She nodded, “it nearly killed him though.”

“...Oh, that is...unfortunate.”

“We are stronger now...I wonder if he could do it again?” she thought for a moment, when that had happened, it was only a short while after they began to work with their abilities.

Caranthir took a few minutes to comprehend this. She was strong enough to hold off a balrog and her friend had nearly defeated one. No quendi has ever been strong enough to do so, his own father fought toe to toe with them and still fell. And she speaks so casually of fighting a maia! He recalled the Dagor Aglareb, seeing her radiating light of a silmaril as the sun amplified her powers. Her fire burned for hours even after the battle, her fighting had demolished a vast amount of orcs and fell creatures. All she had wanted was to be free- he had a feeling if she actually set her mind to it, she could have destroyed half of his army on her own. And foolishly he and his brothers treated her like nothing more than an average elf- and had even provoked her on many occasions. If one day she grew tired of their teasing she could kill them all without lifting a finger. If her trauma became too much for her to bear and Maedhros could no longer help her in the way he had before she could roast them all she almost had back while they were camping.

But she didn’t, she sat listening to his lecture, she dealt with his brothers teasing and handled her trauma without hurting anyone, she even felt guilty for getting them remotely close to being in danger, “if you ever face one again, I think you could do more than hold them off.” She had been improving herself recently, learning how to better control her powers and training new techniques.

Anariel’s eyes darted up from the paper he handed her and she grinned, “really?”

“Yes, I would bet on it.”

********

Tyelpe was good company, despite how she was teased about their mentality due to age being similar; it was true. She found out that he was only a little younger than Ambarussa, who had barely reached maturity when he was born. It made him roughly two hundred and ninety years old, which to Quendi was still very young- Celegorm was right- from what she could understand he was equivalent to her in age. They were rather alike in temperament, both could switch from being quiet and observant to playful given the right circumstances and tended to be on the happier side (though Anariel still had her days that were dark). Anariel was genuinely happy to have him around, especially when his family became overwhelming. She would spend time with him most days when they weren’t busy, he would tell her more about Valinor than any of the others, and she was glad he was more open. It sounded like a wonderful place- she wondered why the Noldor were so anxious to leave- but remembered Caranthir going over it. He said that the Valar were too restrictive of what the quendi did (to her they sounded like over protective and slightly over bearing parents) that Feanor had made that damned oath and swore to track down Morgoth. 

And in turn, Anariel told him as much as she could about where she was from, though her memories of the place had slowly begun to fade even from when she first met the Eldar. She could remember her family and friends, a bit about where she lived and how the world worked- given how she reacted to Caranthir telling her of the Valar. Sometimes it hurt to think about her past, so she tried not too and now that she was forgetting she worried that she messed up in not thinking about them more. Talking to Tyelpe about it helped some; the idea of her forgetting worried her so much she began to keep a journal, writing down all that she could remember, or any dream she had. There were times she would cry about it at night during those late walks with Maedhros- he would listen to her then, ask her questions, try to stir those memories. It helped soothe her mind of that worry as well as her general distraught. 

It was two months after arriving at Himring that snow began to fall; Maedhros had told her that it did not stick often, only flurried and then floated down to lower elevations. Tyelpe and Anariel had been watching it from a parlor window, where a warm fire blazed in the hearth and they had chosen to spend the afternoon with one another. Tyelpe had returned from the forges early in the afternoon with a gift for her and insisted she first join him somewhere warm because the walk from the more open part of the castle nearly froze him solid.

He handed her a trinket box, decorated with flowers with small gems at their center, Anariel gasped and smiled widely, “oh, Tyelpe it’s so pretty! I love it!”

He scratched the back of his neck and returned the smile, “I’m glad you like it. I noticed that you had a collection of small stones and trinkets that Ambarussa brought you back from their outings. You can use it for those for now, so the mantle in your room is not overwhelmed.”

“You didn’t have to do this for me,” she inspected it, opening it to see dark velvet lining, “this is very kind of you.”

“I wanted to,” Tyelpe was very pleased with himself and her reaction.

“Also...not to push my luck,” she giggled at how his face changed so rapidly from content to curious, “but you said ‘for now', what else do you plan on giving me?” she leaned closer to him and poked him playfully, “something small enough to fit in here?”

He really was bad at hiding secrets, “well- just in case you get anything else in the future- not necessarily from me-”

Anariel whined playfully, “Tyelpe!” she pouted, elongating her vowels, “just tell me what the surprise is! It’s been nearly a month since you spilled the beans on there even being one.”

“Spill the beans? What does that mean?” he tried to change the subject, she still used odd idioms that the Eldar did not understand.

“Don’t avoid the subject.”

“Nooo!” he groaned, standing from his seat beside her, “you will find out soon!”

Her eyes brightened and she jumped from the couch they both sat on to chase after him as he tried to leave, “soon? How soon?” her glee intensified.

“Anariel, don’t give me that look." he tried to remain serious.

She pouted even harder, managing to catch him as he circled a chair on the way to the door, “Pretty please! I will still act surprised! And I won’t tell your dad!” 

She grabbed his hand and gave him a sweet look, he wondered if this is how she got her way with Maedhros, “I promise you will love it, and it will be even better if you do not ruin the anticipation!”

With a sigh she resigned, “fine,” she smiled at him again and this time dragged him out the door as he intended, “come with me then, I would like your help deciding which of the dozens of pebbles Amras has brought me should go in your lovely box and which stay on the mantle above my fireplace.”

********

Antisse watched Anariel undress without batting an eyelash, she wished she had that level of confidence though it was not so much confidence as it was desensitization. She had been seen naked by nearly all of the men within the Feanorian household and to boot there were other traumatic situations that she frankly did not wish to burden Antisse’s innocent mind with knowing. Antisse had her in her under garments, and planned to take her measurements, bringing with her paper, a pen, her measuring tape and a bag of other belongings Anariel was still not sure about. The reason for this was not known to either, it was a part of the surprise that had been planned for her which was growing to be bigger than she anticipated- making her more excited- especially as it took more time to develop. As a precaution Antisse had not been told any details- it was relatively well known that she was not the best at keeping secrets, she was just as excitable as Anariel and could hardly contain herself. So together they tried to piece together the puzzle, it had been months now and neither could guess, although any time they did they were shut down. 

“Are you sure you haven’t heard anything?” Anariel questioned, “I know you have been getting close to Amrod, has he mentioned anything new?”

“No Lady,” she wrote down the circumference of Anariels waist and bust, blushing slightly at the mention of one of the twins, “they’re probably just preparing a proper wardrobe for winter. This next month will be the coldest and you’ve gained weight so they need to take measurements for the new clothing.”

Anariel feigned hurt, “oh, you think so?”

“N-not to say that is bad- you look much healthier- your curves are very attractive-” Antisse stuttered, “I mean- before you were still very pretty-”

Anariel laughed, “I’m sorry Isse, I understood what you meant, I’m only joking.”

“Oh,” she laughed, “goodness, don’t scare me like that!”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, continuing to giggle, “you are too gullible...you’re probably right though. I embarrassed myself in front of Maedhros the other day, the top of my blue dress got a little tight and I busted a seam.”

Antisse gasped, “oh! That is your favorite one!” after a second she giggled, “what did our poor lord do?”

Anariel griped, “I know!” she thought back to his reaction and snickered, “you know him- too proper to comment, his face remained straight the rest of the lesson and he pretended not to notice- though the tip of his ear turned about as red as his hair and dropped a little.” She had been learning a lot about the quendi, one she particularly liked is that she could tell their mood just by observing their ears posture.

“You continued with the lesson?”

“It was not that bad.” it wasn’t- though it was right at the center of the V of the collar...which was already low to begin with.

“You harlot.” 

Anariel gasped, “oh! Says the one caught _sneaking_ out during the night with his younger brother!”

Antisse turned scarlet, “I-I…! Who told you?!” Anariel belly laughed at her reaction, but Antisse had a quick retort, “And that’s coming from one who is out nearly every night with the Lord of the Fortress!”

“Psssh, nothing ever happens-” Anariel waives her doubtful look off, “I doubt he sees me in that light.”

Antise bobs her head side to side contemplatively, “I know I am a bit of a romantic- but it isn’t just me who begs to differ.”

This caught Anariels curiosity, “Oh?”

“Well, other than his brothers whom you have told me taunted you in the past about it,” she had indeed opened up a few times to Antisse, not about heavy stuff, just small things that bothered her, the elleth had quickly become her friend, “for one the staff all see it- Antivo- his servant said that on the days he remains closed up in his rooms he still asks on your wellbeing.” 

“Well, that doesn’t mean much,” Anariel began to dress herself as Antisse finished writing down numbers, “I am ‘damaged goods’ he probably just wants to be sure I am not going to burn this place to the ground.”

“There have been several times the guards see him watching you practice your fire wielding from a secluded area that you cannot see.”

“Again, could be explained by his concern for his fortress.”

Antisse huffed and stomped her feet, “Anariel, I don’t understand how you can be so blind!” 

“Look- there is no concrete evidence-”

“His eyes get all soft when you’re around! He never looks at anyone like that-” she argued, her voice rising in pitch and volume, “he’s usually so cold and distant but when you’re around he is a little less...less grouchy.” 

“That isn’t completely true, Caranthir mentioned that Lord Fingon had the same effect not long ago.” She recalled the dinner when Celegorm told Maedhros to get the stick out of his ass and Caranthir said that only Fingon had the pleasure. Honestly this small comment had made Anariel seriously rethink her thoughts of their ‘building tension’. 

“It is possible for him to be attracted to both males and females.” she pointed out, “just...look all I’m saying is that maybe, _possibly_ , it might be worth considering that he might also have a ‘thing’ for you too.”

“And who said I have a ‘thing’ for him-”

Antisse gave her a look, “you wear your heart on your sleeve, it’s pretty obvious.” Well, that much was true. “I’m not pushing you to act- because I know both of you have been through...a lot,” she did not like to mention Anariels past, knowing that it was a sensitive topic, “but if something does happen, I do claim rights to say ‘I told you so.’”

Anariel smiled, “fine, I give you full permission to rub it in my face.”

********

“I don’t see why you don’t like learning languages, you catch on very quickly.” Maedhros commented, sitting at his desk, watching her grow bored and play with the knitted blanket hanging over the side of the chaise where she had begun to lounge.

_Only because you have me to help._ Feanor pointed out.

_Because you’re a huge nerd for linguistics and force me to pay attention._ She thought back.

“Áre,” Maedhros called back her attention, she had begun to lose concentration about ten minutes prior, moving from a position where she could write if she wanted on the coffee table in front of her to just laying, “I know you aren’t feeling...good.. Today, do you want to take a break?”

She sighed and nodded, truthfully a few nights ago she had a rather vivid nightmare- she hadn’t gotten much sleep since in fear of it resurfacing, “that would be nice.”

He expected her to stand and leave, but instead she settled further on the chaise and pulled the light blanket over herself, “can I stay here for a while?”

Maedhros observed her for a moment, she was too tired, going back to her own bed would only bring back the memories of that nightmare and she would probably not rest properly their either, “very well, there is still a few hours until dinner, I’ll wake you up then.”

“Thank you,” she closed her eyes and fell into a restful sleep, the peaceful scratching of Maedhros’ pen and the comfort of his fea lulled her into serene dreamless sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros and Anariel are getting rather cozy with one another, Celegorm is relentless and there are some generally cheesy feelings involved towards the end.

“What’s your favorite color?” Anariel leaned against Maedhros’ shoulder as they sat on a bench in the gardens, watching the stars pass through the sky. 

The winter air was crisp around them, but neither were cold, Anariel had heated the air around them to be comfortable. He was glad for this, the winter months always made his bones ache, since being rescued from Angband and hanging as he had his right shoulder and arm gave him a particular issue. “Blue,” he answered, but knowing she would want more detail, he continued, “a deep dark blue, like sapphire or the color of the night sky.”

She hummed, “that is a good one.”

Maedhros looked down at her. She always sat to his right, because of the scarring on his left eye it was harder to see and although they never discussed it, she kept this in mind, “and yours?”

“Huh....” She was contemplative for a moment, “there isn’t an exact color, but you remember sunrise three days ago?”

He nodded, yes, he remembered it vividly, it was nearly every sunrise (as long was not overcast) she would have that ethereal glow- now he knew it was the light of the silmaril but it never changed the beauty of the moment. And it had begun to become a regular occurrence, them watching the skies all night until first light came, “yes, it was very beautiful.”

“I agree, it held all my favorite colors.” she smiled.

“There is a place in the castle that has perhaps the best view of the sunrise in all of Himring,” he stood, not missing the small hint of disappointment in Anariel as she exhaled, “come with me, I’ll show you.”

He couldn’t deny his heart skipped a beat the way her face lit up when he held his hand out to her, her eyes always dancing with embers of fire seemed to glow brighter when she looked at him. Anariel took his hand gladly, she never minded his prosthetic, he had begun to wear it more when they had returned to Himring and Curufin took time to fix what had been damaged in battle and made improvements. But he offered her his left, so he could feel her soft hand wrap around his, she often used both of her hands to hold his- he wasn’t sure why- but he liked it. He did not even know why he started to offer it, but when they sat at night somehow her fingers became intertwined with his. He supposed it was a comfort for her, the touch of another who she felt safe with- he had only wanted the touch of one other when he was freed from captivity- and she appeared to be the same. He led her down the halls of the castle, and up several flights of stairs, her legs were a little short to keep up with his stride so he allowed himself to give her time. 

He chuckled as she grumbled about the steps being a little too high, but she did not trip as she had when first arriving, “we are almost there, I promise it will be worth it.”

She gave him a playful look, “I’ll trust you.”

Maedhros welcomed that trust openly, he would never purposefully break that fragile trust that had been built in him, it felt like a gift and honor to hold such an important thing, “if you like it enough, perhaps I will furnish the area so that we can be more comfortable next time we visit.”

“I would not want to put the staff through carrying all that up here.” she said, still smiling, he could tell she liked the idea though.

When they reached the top of the tower, he stayed by the entryway to watch her explore, “Why isn’t this one used by the guards?”

In a flash fire erupted in the lanterns left from the last visitor as Anariel lit them, allowing her to get a better look. The tower is made of several large arched windows circling the tower to allow a 360 degree view of the surrounding area, the wind made the tower chill, but was not enough to bring in the snow or extinguish the fires since the windows were made deep enough for a person to stand in them and peer out if they wished or needed. There was a level of floor that came to about two feet from the ledge of the window so that one could patrol around it, and then an inner layer that was another two feet lower with a small pit in the center for a fire. 

“Well, this is the southern tower, and although it gets a generally good view of the north, I prefer the guards use the northern tower to watch since threats are more likely to come from that direction.” Maedhros followed her in now, “and…” he sighed, not wanting to admit his wrong, “well, at the time my mind wanted to have as many options as possible.”

She turned to him from looking out one of the windows, “okay?” she raised her brow at him.

“It turns out that it is not absolutely necessary to have four towers on a hilltop fortress that are all open to all directions.” He leaned against the window where she stood. “Especially when there is one in every direction about two leagues away that we can see a fire lit if it needs to alarm us of an invading force.”

“You’re telling me that you made a mistake?” she tried not to laugh.

“A mistake?” he looked at her incredulously, “Me? No! However...I just possibly over thought the designs for the defenses.”

“Is that why the steps are so steep?” she questioned.

“They are not so steep for those with longer legs.”

****

“Great job Pia nárë,” Celegorm grinned at her like the savage elf she knew he was, gripping a sword with both hands and taking a stance, “you have made major improvements!”

Anariel panted, holding her short sword in a similar stance to Celegorm, she did not know how in the world he had so much stamina, “I have you to thank for beating my ass every other day.”

He laughed heartily, “it’s a pleasure.”

Curufin and Tyelpe stood to the side of the peristyle watching, both wrapped in their winter cloaks, Anariel only had enough focus on keeping the inner level warm and free of ice. In past years they had to convert the dining halls to practice one on one away from the regular soldiers, but this was good for Anariel to learn to focus on two vital tasks at once. If she let the area cool down too much, there was the hazard of slipping on ice or the little snow that built up, or catching hypothermia, and she also had to be sure Celegorm didn’t accidentally get to sword happy and slice her. She liked the challenge, and after a while of doing this training, she and Celegorm had become less hostile towards one another- she had earned more respect from him and he had gotten the point that being an asshole is not a good way of flirting with her. Though she was still not quite convinced to take him into her bed- even if he promised no strings.

“Anariel, remember to look for his weak points, and your strengths” Tyelpe pointed out, “don’t just focus on beating him with brute physical strength, you will not win this way.”

“I have no weak points dear nephew,” Celegorm called back haughtily.

Curufin rolled his eyes at his brother, “his left side is weak because he relies too much on his dominant right, start there.”

Celegorm feigned hurt, “you would help my adversary defeat me?”

“If it meant getting to dinner in a timely manner then yes.” 

Anariel made her move, launching herself toward his left while he was distracted. Rather than taking aim with her weapon as he thought and went to defend against, she slipped down to the ground and tripped him. It was a close call, his sword barely grazed her- she was glad they had been using dulled ones for practice many times- as he tripped she quickly got up, kicked his sword from his hand and stepped on his chest, pointing her sword at his neck to tilt his jaw to where his eyes met hers.

His grin was feral, sending a shiver down her spine, “that was pretty damn sexy.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes stepping away, “what a pig.”

Tyelpe smiled at her, holding out a canteen of water for her as she approached him and his father, “good job.”

“No I am a wolf,” Celegorm got to his feet quickly and snuck up behind her, taking her by the shoulders before she could make it to Tyelpe. She could feel his breath against her ear, which made her quiver despite herself, “and you are a lamb. I will devour you, one day melitse (darling).”

He grabbed his own water canteen and walked away with the same confidence as he always had, perhaps with even a little more pep in his step than usual, even though he had just been pinned. She watched incredulously, no. She would not be ‘devoured’ by him, she is a wolf as well, just hiding in her lambs clothing. Though lately she has been feeling...concupiscent lately but has forced herself to go unsatisfied, she would not let herself linger on the feeling if she could help it and swallow it down until she no longer felt any sort of desire. She did not need that in her life; right now what she needed was to learn how to live in this world, to survive and to heal. Her psyche took over for a moment as she pursed her lips at the thought of being ‘devoured’ by him- it was not an over all bad thought...to have him between her legs, her fingers tangled in his platinum hair, that arrogant mouth of his against her- no. No she did not need that thought.

She took the water from Tyelpe and smiled surprisingly sheepish, glad that he could not read her thoughts. Though Feanor did perk up, _your fantasies are getting rather vivid as of late._

_If you don’t like it then don’t look._

****

Maglor had taught her how to play the finger harp, a wooden board with a resonator and several metal tines attached, which to him was the simplest instrument to learn. And she had picked up on it rather quickly, he was delighted to see (or hear) that she had an ear for tunes and could keep up with music that he had taught her as well as start to compose her own. She enjoyed the simplicity of the instrument and playing it so much that after three months of teaching her and watching her develop her skills he had commissioned his brothers to make one for her. Celegorm had found the proper wood and carved it himself, making patterns into the plank he knew would please her- for some reason she did not like designs or colors having to do with fire- so he stuck to floral patterns and abstract swirls. Tyelpe had made the tines out of a flexible metal that would resonate a good sound, and Curufin’s delicate hand had even managed to make small designs in the tines themselves. 

There only request upon her receiving it was that she play for them on a regular occasion, and she was happy to, “I don’t want to steal the limelight from Maglor.” she said with a shy smile.

“Call me Kano,” Maglor smiled back and took her hand, “this gives me a nice break from entertaining these fiends.”

Anariel’s heart jumped, for months she had been using their sindarized names, the Quenya names they considered special, only to be used by close friends or other Eldar. “A-are you sure?” though it was uncertain if she meant calling him by his true name or the break part.

“I would not mind you calling us by our actual names either,” Amrod called over his shoulder- he sat next to the hearth with his brother playing a game of cards, “it is odd having you so close and calling us a name given to us by strangers.”

She smiled, “o-oh alright.”

Curufin sighed, “if you are already calling my son by his Quenya name I suppose you can do the same for me as well.”

“It is rather foreign having one person in the entire keep call us by our sindarin name.” Caranthir added, “so do as you wish.”

She felt oddly elated, “very well then.”

That night she remembered a tune from her past, she was not quite sure what it was but it reminded her of the feeling of belonging and bonding. She was able to play it note for note- Maglor was sure to write the notes down as he did with all the songs that came from her memory. They stayed in the parlor until the hearth began to die down and the moon was high in the sky; when she finally did go to sleep, the good feelings carried into her rest and for a rare night, her dreams were not haunted by bitter nightmares but sweet memories. When she woke she was sure to write them down in her journal, hoping that one day she would be able to meet her old friends again and compare them. Perhaps introduce them to her new friends as well and restore the closeness that they once had that she had gained with the Feanorians.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These two damaged idiots finally admit their feelings.

She could feel eyes watching her, drilling into her back, burning holes into her skin- but when she turned around there was no one. The room was dimly lit by a fire that had been burning in the fireplace shadows danced on the walls created by the flames and the two bodies twisting in pleasure on her bed. When she turned back from inspecting the room her paranoia drifted away, Maedhros’ steel grey eyes watched her adoringly, his face contorted in pleasure. She loved the way his brow furrowed, the scars on his left side shined like silk in the light so beautifully to her. His lips were red and raw from their passionate kisses, open and moaning, calling her by the name he gave her like a chanting prayer. She felt utter bliss while he was inside her, complete, whole as if she had been meant for him- they fit together like a puzzle. She could feel her end coming- her body riding his, her hands firmly planted on his broad chest, hips rolling faster and faster as his left guided her and his right was oddly lifted above him...why? 

“M-Maitimo!” his name rolled from her lips, she was so close, and she could see he was the same. 

But then that feeling came back- the eyes upon her- she could feel their disgust, the anger resonating. Whoever watched her was furious, betrayed and she grew afraid. Maedhros was confused when she stopped, looking around the room more seriously now, her mood had been yanked like a rug from underneath her. She heard Maedhros call her attention and just as she turned back to him a sharp yank at her hair pulled her forcefully off of him, she did not have time to comprehend the sudden emptiness, the loneliness that came from being away from the other half of her puzzle. She screamed as she was pulled from the bed and towards the fire which began to burn furiously. Now she knew who it was burning the flesh of her back- the one who would grow so jealous and angry to come straight to her dreams and ruin her pleasure. Melkor. Her Lord had come to take her home- to her true home- and end the freedom she thought she had.

“Áre!” Maedhros called to her, but she could not hear over her sobs, trying to wretch herself free of the grip on her hair- Maedhros called for her but could not reach- his right hand had been chained to the wall- he was once laying and now he was pinned to the side of a jagged wall- “wake up!"

Anariel was being dragged through the fireplace, and it _burned_ , dark hands wrapped around her body, “ _it burns_!”

“Áre, you are safe- wake up- open your eyes-” a voice called to her, pulling her from the nightmare but her fea felt like it was made of stone.

“ _Make it stop-_ ” she was speaking in her own language. Her eyes were heavy but she tried to open them, her vision switching between seeing Maedhros’s concerned face to the black cavernous ceiling of Angband.

“ **You are mine**.” it was him-

“ **_Anariel_**!” 

A burst of wind came into her dream, wiping away the fire, forcing her fea to lift itself out of the nightmare. With a gasp her eyes finally snapped open, immediately meeting the familiar steel grey of Maedhros’. She could smell singed clothing and saw dying embers from the corner of her eye falling around her as the canopy that was above her bed burned. Her breathing was quick and heavy and her eyes were wet. Her mind was reeling- his voice was so real, so loud, she could still hear it ringing in her head- the dream started off so pleasant. Despite her panic she still felt an ache between her legs where she missed his cock inside her- but it never was- she actually did not know how it felt. Was it as wonderful and comforting as she thought being so intimate with him? Why was she now so concerned about it? After such an intense nightmare?

“Áre, are you awake?” Maedhros was extremely concerned, his hand was still on her shoulders, leaning over her, so closely.

She blinked once, “ _y-yeah_ ,” and blinked again, sitting up and allowing herself to pull him closer so she could stay in his arms. Yes, it was as soothing as she thought, “ _he...he had me, he took me away from you-_ ”

He sat on the side of her bed with a sigh, wrapping his arms around her, “I can’t understand you.”

She did not realize she had not been using Quenya, “Oh, s-sorry.”

Maedhros’ right arm rubbed her back with calming motions, the other in her hair, “you are safe now,” he said reassuringly, “you are far away from that place.”

“How...how did you…?” she knew the nightmare was bad- considering her bed was burnt, but usually if she was actually sleeping he would be either asleep as well or walking about the keep. 

“I could feel you calling for me,” he spoke softly, keeping his head atop hers so that she could not see the way his cheeks turned a slight pink. Their connection was strong and he could often gauge her emotions pretty easily. And tonight they were rather...provocative and insistent. He was ashamed of how easily he was pulled by them; however it turned out to be a good thing, “you called me by Maitimo- I came to see what you needed...then you started screaming.”

“I’m sorry-”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he pulled her away from him gently, “I understand what you are going through.”

She sniffled and whimpered, her eyes becoming wet again seeing the sincerity in his, “when will they stop? I just- I just want to sleep-” she wanted peace, to feel rested for once, these sleepless nights were beginning to take a toll on her health.

“It will get easier to bear in time.” he tried to smile, though she could see right through it, “but I have been freed nearly fifty years and they still are not gone.”

“Oh.”

“...But it has gotten better since you came.” He sighed again, his eyes now looking away hers, “perhaps it’s time that we stop...avoiding what is obvious.”

She was concerned immediately, what could he be talking about? Frankly there were a few things now between them that they were avoiding, their trauma was a major one they each knew a handful of what the other had gone through. Everyone copes differently, and although sometimes she wanted to let it all out there, and she had opened up quite a bit to him on their late nights together- he still hadn’t. It was possible he did not wish to talk about it, but it might help them both; him getting it off of his chest and her knowing fully that she was not alone. And then there was the romantic tension between them, was she the only one who felt it? She couldn’t have been with how many times his damned brothers brought it up or if Antisse was right at all when she mentioned something. 

“What do you mean?”

“We share a similar...experience in our pasts.” he picked her up slightly in his arms, repositioning them to where his back was to the headboard and she was fully rested on him. She was glad that he did not shy away from physical touch as he had done in the past, it was relieving to see that he was as comfortable with her as she was with him, “with...Angband. I believe that your relation to the silmarils and fate is why you and I are so drawn together.” 

She nodded, with all this moving she had come to realize her night clothing had mostly been burnt (not uncommon for her fits), perhaps that was why he was blushing, though he had seen her bare now on at least two occasions, but made no attempt to move away. He did however pull forward a blanket that somehow had not been caught in her fire and pulled it around her, “that would make sense.” she muttered, making herself cozy.

“Maybe…it is possible that Eru…” he let out a breath, he was struggling to put his emotions into words. He had grown used to being independent, not relying on another for support and in the process he grew cold and uncaring. It was strange for him warming up again to emotions and actually communicating them rather than keeping himself closed off, “perhaps we were meant to help each other heal.”

“I do agree with that.” Anariel held his hand, her heartbeat began to slow and her energy settled, “I know that I still have been having trouble with nightmares, but the heaviness of life...has lightened a little. You and your brothers have helped me so much.”

“How would you...how would you feel about staying with me- with us- in a more permanent manor?” Maedhros kept his head on hers, keeping her from looking at him as he stuttered, completely out of character, “I will help you find your friends- and in the spring I usually take a trip to Hithlum so you could see more of the land- my brothers are all within a week or two trip so we could see them far more often.”

Anariel hesitated, it...it actually did not sound like a bad idea. She was very comfortable with the Feanorians now, she was quickly learning to love all of them and become their friends. But the aspect of being stuck...well, she actually hadn’t thought much about that either; she did not feel trapped at all, “I do not want to be a burden.”

“You will never be a burden,” he promised, she could feel his forehead pressed against her head and his gentle breathing in her hair, “and as I have promised you before, I will never trap you; or imprison you.” 

Anariel forced herself to press away from him, she did not realize how tightly he had begun to hold her. She lifted her face to look into his eyes, his forehead pressed against hers and she felt his fea twisting around hers nearly frantically. She was not certain what had triggered this, her nightmare? Had he been having a difficult night as well? It did not matter, she knew what it was like to bounce between emotions and was there to comfort him as he had comforted her. Her fea warmed around them, not to the point it was earlier to burn and turn to ash, but to provide warmth and reassurance. She felt that he did not want her to leave, and could remember how closed off he was before. He had finally grown to be at ease around her, and had been slowly easing his tension, she was not the only one benefiting from this.

His steel eyes were surprisingly soft and almost pleading, she did not quite understand his sudden desperation. Perhaps it was the light of the silmaril within her and the weight of his oath...or maybe the fact he had finally felt some relief from the mask he had forced himself to wear as she eased him to take it off, “M-Maitimo…”

“Áre, let me...let me take care of you...Let me keep you safe-” his fingers laced through hers, not quite sure what to say next. “I will never hurt you.”

Luckily she did not need more words to convince her, “I trust you.” her free hand went to his cheek, caressing his skin softly, her thumb tracing the predominant scar over his left eye.

His eyes darted between hers and her lips, they were so close- although in recent weeks they have grown to be more physically affectionate they had drawn a line supposedly for the others well being. But that line was diminishing, neither had enough restraint anymore, the tension between them had been building for too long. 

Maedhros did not dare to initiate the kiss; as much as he longed to feel the tenderness of her lips- he knew that there were things in her past that could make the situation turn out awful. But her eyes were wide and pleading, her hand had no pressure behind it but seemed to pull him further to him gingerly. She wanted to kiss him just as badly, Anariel knew with certainty in her heart that he was right; he would never hurt her, to kiss him would never lead to pain or the feeling of being exploited or manipulated. So even if Maedhros would not make the first move, she did, pressing her lips to his with such softness he could hardly feel them at first; but he still treasured the moment. He knew that this was what she wanted, she was in no way coerced into the action and it was because of her own compassion for him. Maedhros realized in that moment how much he had needed to know that someone's feelings for him were genuine and their choice, not their duty as his relative, sibling or friend. It changed his feelings on secluding himself, since knowing her his heart had slowly begun to melt off it’s icy shell and now he would do anything to remain in her company; to keep her at his side.

Maedhros enjoyed the exquisite softheartedness while it lasted, but not long after she first put her lips to his the kiss became more fervent. Her hand pulled him closer, a silent plea for him to open up to her- which he allowed, relaxing his arms only enough to let her readjust herself. Her skin was smooth to his touch- warming to his hand- though he was not concerned, he would burn happily in her arms in this moment. Her lips were insistent upon him, and he slowly began to return her passion, opening to her and letting her explore the cavern of his mouth. He pulled her closer as well, letting his hand wander the open skin of her arms and down to her back as she pulled her legs to straddle his waist. She tasted like honey, her hands were as eager as her mouth and he let her have her way becoming familiar with him.

To her, he was strong, it was reassuring to be in his arms; his touch was cooling her burning skin and grounding her- keeping her from burning up in her passion. Anariel pushed herself against him, desiring as much contact as possible and feeling a growing need for more. Although this was the first time they were kissing she felt all of the tension that was building between them ready to snap in this one moment. He groaned, sending a shiver down her spine as she ground herself against him, her skin was over sensitive from when she burned off her nightgown and bedding. It felt heavenly when his night robes brushed against her skin; she paid no notice to her nudity- he had seen her naked before and she did not mind in the least. She felt no fear with him, no hesitation or doubt with him, she knew that he needed her just as badly and it made her giddy. She wanted more, her head was growing light with the overwhelming amounts of bliss she was experiencing from just a kiss, in the back of her mind a voice nagged at her to slow down and take things at a different pace but her body wanted otherwise. 

But Maedhros was still hesitating, though she could sense his own happiness he had more...patience than she did. It almost physically pained him to pull his mouth from hers, “A-Anariel,” his nose brushed hers, they did not separate any further, “Áre…”

Her eyes dart between his and his lips, her rational mind began to calm her frenzy, “S-sorry- I got too...too-”

He chuckled breathlessly, “you don’t have to apologize.” his lips pressed to hers again with the same softness she held before, though only for a moment, “I just...I do not think it would be wise to let our...emotions take complete control.”

“But...but I want…” her cheeks became more flushed than they had before, “Maitimo-” 

He pressed his forehead to hers and smiled kindly, “I do too…” his lips grace her cheekbones, and he whispers against her skin, “I want you.” he admits, “I want to make you feel good- to make you feel loved-”

“Then why don’t we-”

“Because the moment has to be right.” he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, “I do not want you to regret it later or to feel too rushed. Be patient.”

Patience had never been one of Anariels greatest virtues, but she would try, for him, knowing that he only had what was best for her in mind. As her thoughts began to grow more rational rather than letting her primal mind take over she realized that he was right. She did not want to feel too rushed, it would probably bring back unpleasant memories and she did not want her first encounter with him to turn sour. So she let him leave her bed begrudgingly, and could see he did not really wish to give her up either; but he was the better person, getting out of her bed, bringing her a new nightgown from her dresser and leading her out of the burned bed. Which turned out to have been singed into the mattress as well, he guided her down the halls, past the rooms of his snoring brothers to his own suite. He still did not feel the call for sleep, but despite her nightmare, she was falling asleep as she walked and quickly made herself at home curling under his blankets and taking all the pillows.

Maedhros' gut twisted knowing that things would change now that their feelings were out in the open; he would have to tell her the truths about himself and his family so that she had a better understanding of who she had fallen in love with. Would these things change the way she saw him? Selfishly for a moment he thought of what would have happened if he did not make her stop; if he had taken advantage of her passion and followed suit. At least he would have gotten satisfaction before she saw all the faults of him and his house and left...but that was wrong. He was glad that he put a hold on things- he would not be able to forgive himself for exploiting her and it would just be a heavy addition to his guilty conscience of what he had already done with his life. Maedhros watched her sleep, choosing to read by the light of a lantern rather than going to his office or wandering the halls. He let himself for once wave off those guilty thoughts for more positive ones- for the first time in decades he felt genuinely loved. Not that his brothers love and the love of Fingon were not- but sometimes they felt mandatory or forced, ‘I have to love you because I am your brother’ or ‘I am forcing myself to still love you although you are damaged and not the same person you were when we first fell in love’ those things hurt to think about. Anariel had fallen in love with him knowing that he was damaged, and had issues similar to her own; she has only known him with scarred features and a missing limb. And he had fallen in love with her despite her uncertainty in herself and knowing that she will take time to heal. Maedhro knew that there was a darkness in her heart that she had yet to fully reveal to him and that he had the same. Perhaps together they could light up that darkness and find happiness together again. 

Maedhros still tasted honey on his lips as the sun rose bathing her in an enchanting light.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouch
> 
> Warnings of mentions of torture and captivity, Kingslayings and, burning ships and Feanors deterioration

Anariel was on fire- not literally- but it felt like it, and in the best way. Maedhros’ touch made her melt, but he held her so close it did not matter. He had a firm grip on her waist with his prosthetic and his left cradled her face, keeping her head tilted up so he could kiss her passionately. Her arms were both around his shoulders, pulling him down to her level, her hands tangled in his red hair. She couldn’t get enough of him, her mouth was hungry and insistent against his, stealing his breath. This kiss started off slow, as they often did, but grew more desperate. Both acted as if nothing had changed between them during the day, but their nights had changed. They started discreetly even shy with their budding romance, but it never took long to turn into more. It had been a month of this, winter was nearly over, and they had been lucky enough not to get caught. Both wanted to avoid the circus that would be bound to come when his brothers found out and they wanted to enjoy peace while they could.

Maedhros had Anariel pressed against the wall leading to his room. They were going to call it a night- go to their respective rooms to rest. But Anariel’s sweet voice asked him in a whisper for a kiss goodnight, and he couldn’t find it in his heart to say no. He found it increasingly difficult not to take her to his room and let her get her way- but he had to be responsible. He meant what he said before, he wants to be absolutely certain she is ready for him. Maedhros also needed...time for the idea to settle; he had not had sex with anyone but Fingon, and that had been a mistake their last time together. He did not want Anariel to experience the same thing. 

So he made a deal with her, when her nightmares became less frequent they would let their feelings be consummated. But that didn’t stop her from trying; he didn’t know if it was on purpose but the way she leaned into his touch made his heart flutter. Her soft sighs made him wonder what she’d sound like moaning. The grip of her hands frantically searching for purchase had his mind envisioning her nails digging into his back. It took every bit of his strength to resist. 

Anariel could feel his adoration in his kiss, his touch was firm and comforting, she wanted more. She knew now she was meant for him, there was no doubt in her mind. But she was willing to wait- because she knew that it would be worth it. She could sense his restrained struggling, especially when she could feel his palpable excitement against her. It made her quiver, her core ached, but he held her to where she could not move against him. 

It couldn’t hurt to ask- “Mai-Maitimo-” she whimpered, pulling away from his lips briefly.

He relaxed his posture a moment to see what she needed, “what-” he groaned as she boldly let her hand run from around his shoulders, down his chest to the growing bulge she noticed in his robes, “Á-Áre...n-not-”

There was a sudden clicking noise slightly down the hall, and a yawn, then a gasp. Their heads snapped to the side where Amras stood, staring at them groggily, “hano?”

“T-Telvo!” Maedhros pushed away from Anariel, but still managed to keep behind her, hiding his...excitement which luckily rapidly settled down. Anariel stared incredulously at the younger russet top.

“What’s goin’ on?” he slurred, rubbing his eyes.

“Nothing.” Maedhros answered, Anariel gave him a look as if to say ‘really, that’s all you can come up with?’

Another click, Amrod came out behind his brother, “Morning...what’s going on?” He looked between Amras, Anariel and Maedhros.

“I caught them getting frisky and they’re trying to play it off.” Amras says with another yawn.

_Busted._ Feanor’s voice came into her head, she did not even want to process how awkward it was having Maedhros’ father’s spirit living in her mind as she got all hot and heavy with him.

_Shut up._

“I told you nothing was going on.” Maedhros cleared his throat and straightened his spine, using his serious authoritative tone, “and what are you two doing up?”

“It’s past sunrise, Nelyo, we’re going to breakfast.” Amras defends with a little annoyance, usually it was Amrod who was the more talkative of the two, but Amras was not a morning person.

Another click, and the sound of tapping nails against the hall floors as Huan and Celegorm exit their chambers, “What’s going on with all the commotion so early?”

Huan yawned in agreement and stretched, going to greet Anariel who had been slowly migrating away from Maedhros, “morning Huan,” she scratched behind his ear and leaned forward a little to give the hound a kiss on the nose. She and Huan were quick friends to begin with, his golden eyes twinkled with an intelligence far beyond dogs and she knew that he knew. Anariel gave him a look, “keep it to yourself, pup.”

He yipped in response, making her giggle. Maedhros looked down at her and smiled briefly at the interaction, “It’s time for breakfast.” Nelyo straightens his robes and begins to walk towards the dining hall.

“In your night robes?” Celegorm questioned, it was out of character for Maedhros not to be fully dressed at any point outside of his rooms other than when Anariel took him out for a walk, “at least brush your hair.” his eyes turned to Anariel as usual, “and you still look rather tired, if you need help falling asleep at night, I know a great way to expend energy.” he winked.

Before Anariel could comment, Amras chipped in, “you don’t need to worry, Nelyo seems to have that covered.”

“Telvo!”

“Or is he keeping her up all night, which is causing her to be so tired at breakfast?” Amrod questioned.

“Pityo…”

Celegorms brow shot up, “Really? Hm, I knew you favored her Nelyo, but I thought you were still hung up on Findekano.”

Another click, this time Caranthir exited from the room next to Maedhros’ looking rather upset (he was not a morning person either, in fact the only Feanorians that rose in a good mood were Celegorm and Curufin), “you dense fools, they have been sneaking out nearly every night together. How am I not surprised you did not see how close they were getting with hardly any interaction during the day?”

“We can’t all have rooms next to Nelyo to over hear his romantic escapades.”

“We have not done anything-” Anariel started.

“If you start, please take it to your room, Kano is quite a heavy sleeper. I highly doubt you’d wake him.” Caranthir waved his hand and marched down the hall, clearly having enough of this.

“Nothing happened,” Maedhros used a more commanding voice, and his face grew strict and serious, “now, go to the dining hall and eat breakfast before I have it all fed to the crows!”

****

Winter was coming to a close in Himring, the icicles that had formed on the eaves of the castle were beginning to melt and drip when the sun shone though at night they still froze back over. The frost on the ground was giving way to new life, not much, but a little green could be seen in the gardens now. It was a long time to stay pinned up in one space with the Feanorians, but Anariel had quickly gotten used to their brash attitudes and even considered them friends now. In only a few short weeks Caranthir would be the first to go, making his way back to his lands in the east. There would still be a little snow in the mountain passes but nothing he could not handle. Amrod and Amras would be travelling south not long after, and Celegorm and Curufin would be taking Tyelpe to the pass of Aglon just a little ways north west of Caranthir’s land. Maglor would be the last to leave to go to his lands named Maglors gap, She would be sad to see them leave, though Maedhros said that in the spring, summer and fall months it was relatively easy to pay them a visit or visa versa. 

Caranthir had given Anariel a map which had all of their locations pinned, she had put it in a folder with the other charts he made for her. He also invited her and Maedhros for a visit in the summer. Stating it was the best time of the year for the company since it was easiest to go through the mountain passes without snow. Anariel recalled the conversation they had on the trip to Himring and smiled, it was hard to tell but he had grown fond of her. He even thanked her for being such a good pupil. Though she learned a lot of the history of the formation of Arda and of elves in Aman and what he knew of those in Beleriand, he had stopped at a certain point and did not go further in time beyond his grandfather's marriage to Indis. Anariel had grown curious as to why, wanting to know more of their recent history and more detail on why they traveled back east as well as what happened when they arrived. But when she was to ask, Feanor’s voice would become too loud, that it became a bit of a headache to bring up the subject, and Caranthir just simply avoided it. It was not until Maedhros had decided to sit her down in his office and explain to her.

She could tell that there had been something on his mind the entire day, it was not long after their affair had been discovered by his brothers and at first she thought that it had to do with his siblings teasing. However all he had to do was tell them to quit it and they normally would; he remained avoidant the entire day, even into the night when she knocked on his door. They would meet now in one of the drawing rooms or the parlor, and if one had had the opportunity to actually fall asleep, after a while the one awake would simply find something else to keep themselves busy. But Anariel was sure there was something wrong, she could feel it in his energy, there was something that he needed to talk to her about but was hesitating on. It was out of the ordinary, there was not much that they could not talk about, not a subject too out there they could not approach with one another. It made her concerned, could his feelings for her have changed? Did he somehow realize that he no longer wished to be with her in the same sense she had? 

He opened the door still dressed in his day wear, she had tried to go to bed, but her thoughts were too strong, even with Feanor nagging at her to let it go, stating that Maedhros was often a heavy worrier and it was more likely to do with some plan that was upcoming. “Good evening.” he sounded stiff, though he was often rather stoic around others, he had grown to be softer around her. This made her anxiety heighten.

“Um...Hello.” She pursed her lips nervously, which he noticed right away.

Maedhros reconciled, smiling as best he could, but it was still small, and worrisome, “are you in need of company tonight, Melda (dearest)?” 

She returned his smile encouragingly, her heart jumping little at his endearment, it had been very recent that he had started calling her this, only in private, of course, but he knew how it made her feel, “I came to check on you,” Anariel said softly, “you’ve been feeling stressed all day.”

His mouth opened, and she could sense he was going to deny it, she raised her brow and tilted her head as if call him out before he even tried, he nodded, “I have, I apologize if this-”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she quoted what he often told her, “you know...you have been my rock these past few months. It’s okay if you need my support every now and again, that’s what…” Well, what were they? “That is what I’m here for.”

His eyes softened and his smile became more genuine, “ah, you are too sweet,” he opened the door further, inviting her into his study, “I do not often like to burden those I care for with my heavy thoughts.”

She walked in, noticing his hearth burning low, with a quick glance she rekindled it, taking his hand after he closed the door again, to lead him to the sitting area in front of it, “it’s healthy to get things that bother you off of your chest, I understand there may be...certain things...that are harder to discuss, but as you have told me many times,” she made sure to turn to him and look him directly in the eyes to convey her seriousness, “we went through similar trauma, and know better than anyone what the other has been through.”

Her words pulled at his heart; she was right, he had often told her this, and she was so kindhearted and he could see that she genuinely wished to ease his mind. Tonight however, his heavy heart was not due to his memories of Angband, but of grievances of before. He knew that she would need to know, it was better for her to learn of his past sins from himself rather than another, but it was hard. Would he be able to see the moment she began to change her heart's feelings of him? Or would she be good at hiding it? Only a small fraction of his heart felt as if she would accept this, but regardless, it had to be said- left out in the open so she could make an educated decision on what she wanted to do come spring.

He sighed, taking a seat across from her, her curious eyes watched him curiously. Usually he sat beside her, “it is not those memories that bother me.”

“You can tell me anything,” she smiled reassuringly.

“There are some things that you should know about my family- more specifically about my father and brothers.” he said, spilling his words before he could lose the willpower. It was obvious Caranthir had not gone over this with her. She would have passed judgement by now.

Anariel made herself comfortable in her chair, tucking her feet to the side and leaning on the arm of the chair, “I have been curious on a few things. Tell me your story, and I will ask questions as we go.”

He nodded, licking his lips nervously. He could feel Anariel’s fea around him, trying to sooth him and warm the rigidness that came with his memories, “tell me what you know of why the Noldor returned to Beleriand, and of the way we crossed.”

Anariel tilted her head, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she concentrated, “honestly not very much, Finrod told me that your father took a different way than your uncle and I could tell it caused tension between the two of you. I know…” she paused as if questioning herself, “I knew that your father was king for a time, then he died, you were...captured and Maglor became king briefly as well. Then when you returned, you…” she was trying to find the right word, it was not one that she used but maybe once in the time she spoke Quenya. She still had moments like this where she would forget a word or phrase, “abdicated. And Fingolfin became high king of the Noldor.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and nodded, of course his cousin would be too kind to tell her the more gritty details, “yes, all that is true. And Moryo has gone over why we chose to leave Beleriand?”

“He has, and, I have...my own knowledge as well that feeds into it from what He had told me.” she shivered just mentioning Morgoth. “Your father and uncle were at odds with each other in Valinor and when they went to reconcile, your grandfather was killed and the silmarils stolen. After that your father swore the oath, you and your brothers followed suit and he lost complete faith in the Valar, choosing to migrate east and take on...him.”

Maedhros nodded again, “correct, do you…” he rested his elbows on his knees and slouched, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb as he often did while frustrated. She knew he was not frustrated with her, but more with himself. He was struggling to get out what he needed to say, “do you know what occurred on that migration?”

“I do not.” She felt her head begin to ache, Feanor’s spirit did not like the conversation that they were having, as if the memories it brought up for him were too much. She knew at his reaction that she would not like what Maedhros would tell her, but had no way of stopping it.

“There are events that occurred that I must tell you,” Maedhros’ eyes found hers, hoping that they conveyed how very serious he was, “and you will not like them. My family- my father, brothers and I committed-” he took a deep breath, watching her eyebrows furrow, “know that we did what...what we _thought_ we had to do. It happened so fast and with so much emotion-”

He paused, watching Anariel’s eyes dart around- something similar happened when she was told about the silmarils- her eyes flashed silver, dancing with fire before flashing back- “Mae,” she took a deep breath, “what you have done was caused by ardor for your father and grief that had yet to be experienced by the Eldar.”

He shook his head, his knee was bouncing, “Áre…” he chuckled nervously, “Áre you don’t understand- we...they call it the Kinslaying of Alqualonde. I killed people, not like the Dagor Aglareb- I killed Teleri- other _Quendi_.” 

Anariel was shocked, “why?”

She watched him break down explaining to her what had happened, once he started he didn’t stop- he couldn’t- he had to get it out and tell her. “All my father wanted was the boats- he would have sent them back- I-I’m sure of it, I would have made him-”

_No, I would not have._ Feanor said to her, regret laced in his tone, _I did not even send it back to my brother...my psyche was mad and broken._

_That is no excuse._ She retorted.

_I know._

“So...so my father thought that…” he waved his hand dramatically, “if we just threaten them, they will just _give_ us the boats. They will just- just _give_ us their greatest creations.”

Anariel pushed Feanor’s memories back, as hard as she could, even just flashes of what had happened in Alqualonde had her shaking- it was like seeing the battle she was actually in...but instead of monstrous orcs it was faces like hers. They were not trained for battle- the Teleri were severely outmatched but they still fought tooth and nail to protect their treasure that to them was as dear to their hearts as Feanor’s silmarils. She could feel Maedhros’ anxiety kicking in, his fea was frantic, she braced herself, forcing Feanor to her subconscious, feeling the urgency to help Maedhros. She focused on letting her fea try to soothe him, to dance frantically with him and force it to slow its pace.

His breathing had picked up, the feeling of her spirit around his kept him from completely spiraling, which he was thankful for, but it was still rather difficult, “...we...we ended up taking the boats.” he leaned back in his chair, his eyes now watching the fire burn, a sardonic smile plastered on his lips, “and we left two thirds of our forces behind.”

“...that...that was not strategic.” she did not know what else to say- her sarcasm was a defense mechanism he knew well by now, he did the same thing though not as often.

“Ha! I know- trust me-” he adjusted again, one leg resting on the other's knee, his elbow on the arm of the chair, his head resting on it, eyes still on the fire, “I tried to get him to send the boats back. I tried to reason with him… I said, ‘Now what ships and rowers will you spare to return, and whom shall they bear hither first? Fingon the valiant?’” his eyes clouded over, there were tears threatening to spill at the mention of Fingon, “but he was beyond reason at that point. And you know what he did next?”

Anariel shook her head, unsure of how to process this, “...is this why Nolofinwe had to cross the Heclaraxe?”

Maedhros nodded solemnly, “he burned the boats while we were sleeping.” he paused, “by the time I woke, it was too late- he and Curufin and Celegorm had set them on fire. Those two have always been the most rash, father knew just how to spur them on.”

Anariel never knew this, but found it painfully obvious that they would do such a thing from what she had gotten to know of them.

“I wanted to go back for Fingon- I...he joined the kinslaying because he saw me fighting- he and his father had come with their forces from the rear and misinterpreted things. It was only after that they found out that it had been our own doing and not the Teleri. Though Findarato’s forces were more wise and knew that violence was not in the way of the Teleri but the Noldor were more than capable, especially the ones that followed Curufinwe Feanaro.” he shivered. “Pityo almost died, he wanted to go back...he missed mother, he was terrified- father thrust a sword in his and Telvo’s hand- but they hid nearly the entire time. I thought I could still convince father to send them back...them and the boats- they were elflings really- well- they had barely reached adulthood.”

Anariel’s face showed her shock, she felt Feanor’s shame and self-aboration but his memories no longer flooded her mind, “H-how…”

“Telvo was so worried about him that he couldn’t sleep, he was the only one of us that knew Pityo was actually in the ship.” a tear fell down his cheek at the memory of nearly losing his brother...because of their father, “the fucking boat was already in flames, Celegorm and Curufin tried to hold Telvo back but he managed to get away and get on the boat.” his lips quivered, “Telvo had breathed in so much smoke he was basically unconscious when Pityo dragged him out and they both still have scars from the burns.”

“That’s...that is awful.” Anariel was shaking, she was not quite sure how to process this information, though for some reason she could not see Maedhros in the way that he feared- he thought that she would see him as a monster- she saw him as someone who got caught up in a mob mentality and his father’s psychotic break. The violence and bloodshed was atrocious, but it would be a lie to say that Anariel had not done...horrible things in Angband; however it was for her own survival. Both brutal actions could be justified as ‘doing what one must out of desperation.’ Now that their father was no longer there to stir them to violence, would something like this happen again?

“It took Fingolfin and the other two thirds of the Noldor forces years to cross the grinding ice. And by the time they reached Beleriand, countless died in the cold.” he laughed bitterly, “he didn’t even get the chance to give my father a piece of his mind- he had already died, spontaneously combusted after battling Balrogs. I was already a prisoner by now, Maglor was king- I love him dearly, he and I are best friends and brothers, but he was not born to be a king. He did not want to give up on me...but the others tried to be more practical, and they were right to.”

He sighed and slumped in his chair, his fea had settled, but more in defeat, though he felt more relief. They sat in silence for a while, staring at the fire, Anariel understood her connection to Feanor a little bit more now as the spirit of fire, and his spirit being sewn into the making of the silmarils. She had never cared for her powers, and had tried to grow used to them, same with her mental connection with Feanor, for as much as he helped her through many obstacles in her past, the knowledge of what he had done and forced his sons into made her heart ache for them. She knew the moment she heard of the oath that nothing good would come of it- and so far nothing really had. Maedhros as the oldest had been left to pick of the pieces of what their father had done and reap the consequences, even after being a captive of Angband for so long he shouldered the responsibility. Forging an alliance between his and his Uncle by giving up his rightful place on the throne- though he insisted that he had no right because Fingolfin was a few years older. 

“Mae…” he wiped his cheek, though did not look at her, “Maedhros, I….thank you for...telling me this.”

“I...thought you ought to know before fully investing your emotions.” he said bitterly.

“My emotions were fated to you the moment our eyes met on that battlefield.” she said softly, smiling at him as their eyes met, not knowing what else to do. She wanted to go to him, but was unsure.

Until he let out a shaky breath and opened his arms, letting himself be vulnerable for a moment, she felt his relief when she left her chair, closing the space between them to set herself in his lap, then letting him hold her as tightly as he needed and shook as he cried silently into her shoulder. “I would have let you burn me then.” He whispered, “I will die happily in your flames.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros told Anariel his tale, now it's time for him to hear hers.
> 
> Warning of mentions of trauma, abuse, torture, sexual abuse and some rather dark subjects. If you want to skip this chapter you can, I will try to make it easy to pick up from where the last one left off.

Anariel made the decision after that conversation that she and Maedhros needed to be more open with one another about their pasts; she was glad that he was able to open up to her about the horrible things that he and his family had done. That did not mean she condoned what had been done, infact, it planted a seed in her mind- what if they were to do more atrocities in the name of this oath? She was comforted by the fact that those crimes were committed with high influence of their father, and since he had perished, no other innocent blood had been shed due to this oath. Would she be able to hold them back if this oath were to stir up trouble again? She was not sure.

It was difficult for them to open up at first, especially for Maedhros who was used to carrying the burden of his trauma on his own. She did not force him to tell her every detail of what had happened, Anariel just wanted to give him the opportunity to let it out; she knew better than anyone how damaging the pressure of holding in such scarring memories could be. He rationalized it as ‘it’s better to tell her so she still has the chance to back out if she needs to’ which she hated, but it was able to get him talking at least. They spent that same night that he told her of Losgar and the Kinslaying talking about his decades of imprisonment, the majority of which he hung from Thangorodrim. He had felt the emotional release of telling her of what led up to that moment and once the words started flowing- they did not stop. 

He held her on his lap, his head resting on her hers, refusing to look at her, fearing judgement that if he were thinking rationally- he would know would not be there. Maedhros spoke of how foolish he was to even believe he stood a chance against whatever Morgoth had schemed to get him to meet. But he had been emotionally charged and careless- it was right after his father's death and he was led to believe that Morgoth would surrender a silmaril. The Oath had taken charge of his thinking process at that point, his logic was skewed with the thought of getting at least one of the gems. Though Maedhros knew it was very possibly a trick and decided to feign a treaty with Morgoth and took more men than what he had originally bargained, they were still outnumbered. They were taken hostage or slaughtered on the spot.

“The ones who were not killed, he used against me,” Maedhros’ voice was barely audible, Anariel rubbed gentle circles into his skin, her fea continued to try and sooth his chaotic energy. “He would torture them right in front of me unless I did what he asked...told him what he wanted to know. He showed me how orcs were created. I never told anyone, fearing it would water down their resolve in battle...”

Maedhros did not go into detail of what the dark lord wanted, and although she knew the foe well enough to guess, he did not want to linger on it. He knew that it was useless to be held as a hostage for political gain, his brother would have learned from his mistake and been wise avoiding Angband- but it did not make it hurt any less when no rescue came. For years. Perhaps this was an underlying cause of his feeling of being incapable of being loved properly, after all, if his brothers were not willing to risk everything to save him, was he really worth it? Especially after being so thoroughly damaged he even abdicated his right to the throne of the Noldor. He knew this line of thinking was farce, his brothers did love him- he heard stories of how Celegorm had to be held back from charging in himself to attempt an ill fated rescue and how Maglor held out for over five years before begrudgingly accepting the crown in hopes his brother would be released or some word would come. Curufin worked himself to the brink devising better weapons so that they all had a better chance against this enemy to get revenge for him and his father, Caranthir tried to come up with some logical way to get him back or to negotiate for his brothers release only to be forced to put his mind to better use making battle strategies. The twins were shells of themselves without their eldest brother who had basically raised them in the later years when both their mother and father had become too distant to bother. 

He was almost certain that Morgoth and Sauron knew that keeping him alive was practically useless, and that torturing him would gain nothing; he was an Eldar, and the first son of Feanor, he was strong in body and mind. No matter how they broke both of those things, vital information never fell from his lips, and after years of different types of torment, physical and mental. Different games that they would play of ‘house’ and ‘servant and master’ they finally got bored, his beauty diminished as his soul began to take too heavy damage to recover, and they hung him from his wrist on that wall. It did not take long for his hand to lose feeling- though his body was quite light by that time- after a while he would not move the hand at all even when on the rare occasion they took him down to have ‘fun’. Even if there was a way to break the chain he was hung from, it was likely that it would have had to been amputated either way. The Eldar have never known bodily damage as extensive as his until they had already left Valinor, away from the help of the Vala of Healing. They were able to heal from most wounds given time and proper care, perhaps a little bit of magic if there was a skilled healer available, but his scars were too old to heal and too deep for his body to fully recover from. They were not given proper treatment when first inflicted to heal properly and even if they did, his tormentors made another in the same spot so that over time, the skin did not bother. His joints had been dislocated so long that even put in the right place, the cartilage there would not recover fully, even when his brothers forced their best magical healer who had been trained in the Gardens of Lorien to sit with him for hours. His right shoulder blade, socket and whole of the arm would ache on cold winter nights, or when his mind was lingering on those memories. Even when he slept at times, his body still remembered, and he would wake with his arm lifted above him, causing him to panic for the first brief moments he was conscious. Curufin had made a brace to wear when he needed it, that would give his muscles the ability to relax and remain in place- but he seldom used it. A salve that had been shown to them by the Sindar that was able to help ease aches and pains had been given to them as well, and they were taught how to make it, but Maedhros did not use it.

It had taken the entirety of the night for him to finally release the story of what had happened to him, but Anariel did not mind being his listener. It made her heart ache to hear what he had been through, she knew the cruelty his captors could be capable of, and they had had him far longer than what she had figured her captivity to be. It took a lot from her not to cry for him, knowing that he would take it the wrong way and shut down again, and at the end of it all, she was able to look at him with kindness in her heart and promise that she would never judge him for what he went through or the consequences of this. They had gone from sitting in front of the fireplace to Maedhros pace, then back to holding her, pacing and then sitting on his own- he was not one to sit still. He could tell that she was tired- and he was too- but sleep would not come to him, not with his mind left reeling like this, and she refused to leave him. Or even let him leave when he carried her to bed, so he reluctantly laid with her, letting her hold his hand and try to reassure him and comfort him. The act of trying was not quite enough unfortunately, and to no fault of hers, but it helped. It was a small weight off of his shoulders in retelling his tale, and seeing that she held no judgement, that she did not falter when he told the gruesome history of what his family had done.

“Perhaps it would be fair of me to tell a little more of my own story.” she said softly, holding his hand in hers as they lay facing each other. As tired as she looked, she was stubborn and refused to sleep until he relaxed some, “well, in a more chronological order rather than random sobs and breakdowns.” she laughed at herself bitterly.

“You do not have to,” He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb tenderly, “I am just...relieved that you listened to me, and did not run.”

“We have all made mistakes we wish we could change, and demons in our closet we are incapable of fighting at times.” she reassured him.

“Very well then, but you do not have to tell me more than what you would like. We have all the time in the world.” 

Anariel took a deep breath, and began to recall as best as she could what had led her to be in the place she was now. For her, it was therapeutic to finally be able to go over it, to play it out and assure herself that she had not done anything wrong; and what she had done was to survive. She started out at the beginning, what she could remember of it; her memories of before her transformation were hazy at best. 

“I was not always like this,” She said, her hands leaving Maedhros momentarily as she remembered her old self, looking at her hand, how her fingers were now longer, and thinner- though her nails were rounded off for comfort, they were still much sharper and dense- she could not even see that far from her face before, her vision had been impared most of her life. Her hands moved to her ears, which were once smaller and rounded off, now they were pointed, and long, stretching out an inch or so from her ears, “I was simpler looking...to say the least,” she chuckled, “my ears were stunted, and rounded, my body heavier, but shorter.”

He lifted a brow, “shorter even?”

She gave him a look, “believe it or not, I think that I would have been to your sternum rather than your shoulders.”

“Goodness, that is a difference.” 

She rolled her eyes and smiled, “yes, I was an ugly duckling compared to the swan that I am now.”

He looked at her questioningly, “another strange idiom.”

“At least they are interesting.”

“I would say so, continue, I apologize for interrupting.” he took her hand again and kissed it. She appreciated how he became more light hearted with her as she had. Her approach to dealing with her trauma was to try and keep herself cheerful as if it would force her to avoid falling into despair- sometimes it worked.

“I still can’t believe what happened- and wonder sometimes if I even remember it right- but my friends at I were all just...hanging out,” it felt strange to say, because it was such a simple evening, “we would usually meet up on weekends to spend time with one another, and this weekend we decided to do something different. All we wanted to do was have a campfire before summer was over, have a few drinks, play some games...and then...the atmosphere changed. I thought that perhaps I had drank too much and that was why I felt so strange, but the air around us grew dense, and the light of the fire was fading as well as the stars and the moon. Next thing that I remember is waking up on the cold floors of the throne room.” she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, “Mae, I know it is hard to believe, but this world is not my own.” Anariel confessed, “where I am from there is no Morgoth- no Valar at all- no Quendi or Naugrim or Orcs- it is not exciting- or well- magical-” she was having a hard time finding the right words, “our world was not perfect, actually it was far from, it was dying and full of corruptedness and evil as well, but just… in a different sense.”

Maedhros nodded, she could see in his eyes that he had a hard time comprehending it, but there was no disbelief, “very interesting. Do you know how you got here then?”

She shook her head, “I do not know, quite frankly, I don’t think that Morgoth and Sauron quite knew either. They were playing with a magic that I believe they stumbled upon by accident or from a deep memory of Morgoth of the time before Arda. I am not sure.” she had tried many times to comprehend it, but always found herself at a loss.

“There were seven of us in total; though I think only five of us...survived.” she continued, trying not to let herself grow bitter. “The three of us that were changed with the silmarils, then two others were changed, but not granted powers.”

She then led into the story of her captivity, the light of the sun began to shine through the curtains of Maedhros’ room, but they were drawn too tight to let enough through for her body to glow. When Maglor knocked on the door to ask if they were joining breakfast, Maedhros sent him away, with a stern but not harsh tone. She told of the times they spent in the dungeon before their transformation; she was unsure how much time had passed, the days had molded into weeks and months and the time was a haze. Sauron had come in occasionally to see them, experiment on them, to see how they ticked and during one of these ‘experiments’ her first friend to die never returned. The group had become delirious trying to keep themselves sane, with no stimulation from the outside, only enough food and water to barely remain alive, they had gone through cycles of arguing amongst one another then making amends only to fall again. There were times when the silence between them all dragged on and on until one of them began to speak of a random subject sometimes that made no sense. They told stories, tried to play games and avoided at all costs what would happen to them next. 

After a while, they had begun to change; become emaciated and sick, another one of her companions died in the cot of their cell, and none of them had the power to stop it, could keep them alive- it was torture simply being made to wait there until they were useful. Then, a day came when they were given more food- Anariel felt a burning hatred for their captors even at this early stage- it took one of them dying for this change- or so she thought. When they had begun to fill out again, Sauron came more often, taking them to another part of Angband where he forced them to work their bodies and build muscle, they first came across Orcs at this time and were forced to defend themselves. She was not sure how long this lasted either, they had no real way of marking time other than when meals came, but after a while they lost count or gave up trying. 

When the time for their transformation finally came; there were only five of them left, she was not sure whether this was done on purpose to weed out the weak ones of their group or just because Morgoth and Sauron needed time to build back the power they had spent summoning them from their world. But her memories of that day were a blur, all she could remember was her burning hatred for those who had done this to her and her friends, and she was the first one to be sunk in that horrid cauldron, simply because she spat at his feet when he asked for volunteers. 

“Perhaps this is why you were given the burden of flames,” Maedhros commented, “and as the first to be introduced to the silmarils, I suppose that is also the reason.”

“It would be a strange kind of irony wouldn’t it?” She mused.

A lot of what she continued with, Maedhros already had some ideas in his head about, from her previous breakdowns and late night ramblings. But she went into more detail on...things she was previously too uncomfortable speaking with him about; and he was secretly grateful that he did not let her or himself get too physically passionate right away. Knowing now what she went through, perhaps he could better approach the situation- and ease them both into it. He knew that form of torture as well unfortunately. Morgoth had always had a strange love and hate relationship with light and fire, he wished to obtain the Flame Imperishable back before the Quendi ever came into existence. And wanted some sort of way to control fire and light though they were out of his dominion causing him frustration and anger. He was not able to win the heart of Varda from Manwe because of his darkness and chaos, and he was unable to control Arien when she rose because she was untamable. Perhaps his sick obsession with Anariel was caused by this. He kept her as a personal pet, to the point of impeding on her learning her new skills, turning her friends away from her with manipulation; the promise of keeping them safe as long as she did as he asked. He would dress her up like a doll, give her better treatment and perks than them, to the point they noticed and questioned, but she refused to answer. She had used this relationship to convince him to give her friends better living environments and less painful punishments, better food so they would not get sick and medical help if they were injured while training. But rather than seeing this, when they found out about the relationship, they chose to turn their back on her; Maedhros did not quite understand this, seeing as she was unwilful in her participation. 

But Anariel's explanation broke his heart a fraction, “he had this...syrup...this...this potion,” she had begun to cry, burrowing her face in his chest, she refused to look at him as she shook, “it made me want it.” she was silent for a moment, “he said that an unwilling participant is fun for a while- but this is a different form of fun.”

“I-I, Áre, I have no words…” Maedhros comforted her as best as he could, though like her, he found he could only offer so much.

“The reason they...they turned their back on me is because…” she took a deep breath, “Sauron showed them...what I was like when he forced that shit down my throat...made me into a desperate whore.”

She could remember it vividly, her clouded lust, her desire, and him- Melkor- he was beautiful, in a cruel, dark way, as if his beauty was not meant for this world, and she was far below him. Quite honestly she did not know why he had been obsessed with her back then, now she figured it was due to the way the light of the silmarils were absorbed by her. Her friends were appalled, at first confused and shocked, but she watched their faces turn sour as they listened to her pleas for him and how she acted of her own accord, all because of a horrid spell cast by strong aphrodisiacs'. She had always hated him, as they did, but they did not see that, and their pity for her being his ‘toy’ quickly changed. After that they hardly spoke to her, and she could feel a bit more bitterness and resentment when they were forced to fight one another. Though when she devised her plot to escape during the battle- she still thought of them- she couldn’t stand the idea of leaving them behind to suffer. She knew that Morgoth’s wrath would be taken out on them, not just as cruelty to them but to hurt her as well, because even though they turned against her...she still loved them. 

“I had somehow convinced him to send me to the front lines,” she sniffled, feeling a whisper of the resolve she felt at that time strengthening her, “I made him think that I truly wished to be at his side and be his tool, that I would not escape...and...and that I would keep my friends in line as I did so.”

“...But…” Maedhros hesitated, thinking of what Fingolfin had told him of the others like her, “they were not at the battle.”

“I told them to run.” she smiled bitterly, “I told them that everything that I had put up with was to protect them, and even if they did not like my methods, even if they hated me now, I still loved them. And if they still loved me even the slightest, they would make for the hills and not look back.”

“What did they do?”

“They listened.” She nodded, wiping away her tears, “to make it less suspicious I sent them with a squadron of soldiers saying that they were going to advance and make the ‘enemy’ weaker as night passed. When we passed the corpses of the orc squadron, I acted as if I was enraged and burned them all before the other generals could properly investigate and see that they were taken out by their magic rather than the blades of the Eldar. They slaughtered the orcs that I sent them with and ran as I told them.”

“Did they forgive you?”

“I...I am not sure.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does it say about the author that they think that sleeping is a form of proper bonding? Maedhros tells Anariel about a party that will have a familiar guest. They're just playing games now ya'll *eyerolls*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made a playlist for Anariel and Maedhros that has songs that makes me think of them, if you want to check it out, let me know what you think!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7HqQf0yftVZIVsItkJuNIk?si=WopqtEZKT0SdGn9OcRW33w

There was a few days after Maedhros and Anariel had their heart to heart where things between them were...awkward, Maedhros was worried that although Anariel accepted his stories that night, that she would still decide to leave, or come to the conclusion that it was too much despite her acceptance and she would be gone. Anariel on the other hand began to wonder if what she had admitted doing to appeal to Morgoth and free her friends was too much for Maedhros to consider her anymore. She knew of his disgust and hatred for him, and all of the other Quendi felt the same, she would no longer be accepted anywhere within this land if he were to tell and call her an outcast. But neither of their fears became reality, Anariel was always there when he searched for her, every night she had begun to come to his rooms in search of his company. And there was never a time where she asked to be held he denied her, and although when he kissed her at first after this he was gentle; there was never hesitation. 

She began to sleep in his room, if they slept at all, if they weren’t sleeping then they would either take a walk, watch the skies from their towers or simply talk until one of them eventually drifted off. Their physical passions never occurred in the bed- not that it ever was more than a heavy make out session- because both were still a little apprehensive of the subject. Although Anariel was more eager, Maedhros had centuries of practice with his patience, and he was determined to stick to his deal; when the nightmares lessened, then he would let her have her way. It did not stop him from enjoying her enthusiasm and effort to break that restraint; she was passionate, like the fire in her soul. He could sense her desire and often had to stop her before she let herself be carried away- even if it did not stop her from fantasizing while in private. It seems like the only time she did not join him in his bed was when she was...working out her frustration on her own. At first he felt wrong- perverted- for being able to sense when she was doing so, but once she sensed his curiosity and he felt her humor, it became a game to them both.

It helped them both immensely, having another with them that they trusted while resting, that they could wake too without concerns. Maedhros, still never one to sleep for very long or often, would watch over her, lost in his own thoughts, or when she fell into a deep enough slumber he would leave, only long enough to grab a book and light a candle and read in a chair beside the bed, keeping conversations with her as she spoke in her sleep. The rare times that Anariel was awake and he was asleep, she did the same, occasionally she would feel content to be wrapped in his arms or to play with his long red hair. Maedhros was not much of a cuddler while asleep, but did not mind holding Anariel until she was snoring (she would always deny this), and if he saw that her dreams were making a turn, he would return to holding her. She knew he needed space when sleeping, and respected with, when she woke up and no longer felt his arms around her she would check to assure that he was either still in bed or at least in the room, before falling back asleep, settling with holding his hand until she drifted off. They found that talking about their happy memories before falling asleep would sometimes bring pleasant dreams, or at least be enough to ease them into that sleep. Maedhros liked to listen to her stories about what her life was like where she was from, now that she was comfortable enough knowing he would believe her story about being from another reality or world. It helped her remember and recall her old life, though quite a few times she had to end her story because it faded from her mind.

“Maitimo?” she muttered, curled into his side, her head on his shoulder as she began to fall asleep while cocooned in his blankets.

“Yes, Melda?” He liked her sleeping on his left so he could caress her skin and hair properly.

“Thank you.” he could hear her barely holding herself awake.

“For what?”

“For taking care of me,” she smiled peacefully, “for teaching me what it’s like to be cared for again.”

His heart twisted, he was not sure if it was bitterness, because she never deserved for that feeling to be taken away to begin with- or grateful that she felt that way about him, “if you are thanking me for that, then I would like to thank you for the same. I will always be here to support you.”

“And I for you.”

******

“Áre, there is something that I need to talk to you about,” Maedhros said to her one day over dinner, after being pestered by Maglor for nearly the entire meal. He had alluded to it several times, and finally the elder brother conceded, “I’ve been meaning to bring it up for months, but I just...it has been slipping my mind.”  
  


She wiped her mouth, raising her eyebrow curiously, a few scenarios ran through her mind but she was unsure whether to be excited or worried, “yes, what is it? Did I do something to upset you?”

“No, no of course not,” he smiled reassuringly, “in fact- I think you will rather like the idea of it. It has to do with the gift that Curvo and Tyelpe have had waiting for you.”  
  


Her eyes brightened and her interest peaked, her eyes went to Tyelpe teasingly, “oh,really? Will it give away what it is? I’ve been dying to know all winter now.”

Tyelpe chuckled, “Ai, at this point father will make you wait until you actually arrive before giving it to you.”

“It would be rather dramatic to reveal it to her at that time,” Curufin pondered, “but it leaves no time for alterations.”

“What is it?” Anariel whined, “Mae, they are do it on purpose now!”

Maedhros’ smile hid his laughter, he had grown appreciative of the friendships she’s built with his brothers, “As I have told you before, I regularly go to Hithlum in the warmer months,” he loved seeing the excitement growing in her eyes, “and along the way is the Kingdom of Doriath, our allies in the fight against Morgoth. They have invited us to a feast of thanks in order to celebrate our victory over the enemy and thank us for defending their lands.”

“Bloody cowards could have helped us rather than hiding-” Celegorm started, but Maedhros quickly shut it down with a stern look.

“And today I have received word that there is someone residing within that kingdom that you may be familiar with.” Maedhros continued, growing more serious, “you in particular have been invited as an honored guest for your part in destroying the enemy. This person that is now in council with King Thingol and his Maia wife, Melian and heard of your location. They have not sent word directly to you, however I felt it is fair to give you warning so you are not caught off guard when we arrive- if you want to go-”

“Yes!” She nearly spilled her drink with her enthusiasm, “yes, I will go- who is it? Do you know-”

“Unfortunately the courtier who delivered the message did not say.” Maedhros gave her an apologetic look, his fea reaching out to hers on instinct when he felt her anxiety, “though I have not sent word back yet, if you would like to write them a letter, I will give you time to do so before sending my response.”

She nodded vigorously, standing from the table, nearly knocking over the rest of her plate onto her dress, “I-I will write it right a way- please excuse me-”

The Feanorians watched as she left, unsure if her eagerness was driven from joy or some sort of anxious dread, Maedhros would not tell them, but from the look on his face, they thought they knew the answer. Maglor sighed and smiled at his brother, “it was good of you to tell her rather than rejecting the invitation outright.”

Maedhros let out a breath he did not realize he had been holding, “she has been making progress, her nightmares have been decreasing, and her general attitude has improved-”

“She hasn’t set me on fire in weeks,” Celegorm agreed, “or threatened Curufin for his snide comments.”

“Is it out of fondness, or because she wants to know about her gift?” Curufin asked. 

“She smiled at you the other day rather than scowling,” Tyelpe pointed out.

“I just do not wish for this to cause any reversal in that process,” Maedhros cleaned his palat with a sip of wine and stood, bidding his brothers a good night, “her...friends...as it turns out did not leave her on good terms.”

“Who was at fault for that? It should determine the way that the reunion should go.” Maglor replied.

“Unfortunately I believe it is a scenario where both sides believe that they are innocent. So we shall see.”

****

Anariel had spent longer than anticipated writing that letter, simply because she did not know where to start. Obviously she figured that they knew where she was, if rumor had already spread so far, and they also probably knew that she would be invited to the celebration. But should she write them? After all, they had not written her, should she take that as a sign that her presence was not welcomed by them, even if their hosts had invited her? She would understand why, she still could remember their faces as she told them what she had done and why, and then turned around and told them to flee before they could properly respond. She was just glad that at least in the end they trusted her enough to listen. Perhaps that was a good sign then? She spent hours working on the letter, having one draft ready, only to scrap it, spending long minutes just staring at the script. She wrote it in their home language of course, preferring privacy, and just in case the other had wanted it, as a courtesy. 

She was scratching at her head, reading it over just one last time to assure herself of what she had written. The moon was high in the sky, and the candles that danced to her fea around her were nearly melted. Maedhros had joined her some time ago- of course, she had gone to his office to write, preferring his rooms to hers nowadays. He had sat patiently, letting her use his desk to write while he read by the fireplace, occasionally it would burn low, indicating her stall of thoughts, and would inquire, offering assistance when needed but not prying, which she appreciated. And when she finally deemed it finished, finding the courage to seal it before it was too late- she signed it...using a name she had not called herself since her escape. 

When she was finally done, she stood, Maedhros looked at her over his book and smiled softly, “are you content?”

She nodded, coming to sit in his lap- ignoring his book, “took a lot out of you, didn’t it?”

Anariel nodded again, wrapping her arms around his torso and resting her head on his chest, “very much, let’s go to bed now.”

His arms went around her and he set his book to the side with a chuckle, “'let’s?' is this a team effort now?”

“For us sleep may as well be.” she smiled, nuzzling his neck, pressing tentative kisses to his skin, a goal in mind.

Her lips changed his mood, the light hearted atmosphere grew heavier- but not in a bad way- “and you assume it will be my bed you are sleeping in?”

He pulled her away from his neck with effort, not quite wanting the sensation to stop, but he had grown fond of teasing her, her grin said she rather enjoyed playing this game, “will you deny me?”

Maedhros drew her face closer, kissing her lips gingerly, just a peck, his eyes still half open, watching embers burn in hers, her hands were on his shoulders now, her fingers digging into his tunic as she pressed against him. “I don’t think I could ever deny you, Áre.”

He let her kiss him deeply, quite liking the sound of what he said, her mouth was hot and smooth, practiced now in the ways of seducing him- though he had managed to fend her off until now. But it was hard, maybe it was time for that to change. Maedhros’ resolve had been breaking the past few nights, as they learned that neither would be abandoning the other, their ardor had grown. Anariel began to move her hips against him, slyly, as if he wouldn’t notice, and rather than scolding her, he lifted his hips and repositioned in the chair to grant her better access. She let herself straddle him and pressed her body against his, loving the friction, he adored how soft her body was, his hand had taken to exploring her curves with liberty. But he would stop her before things got too heated, in fear that he would not be able to hold back- or that she would suddenly have a change of heart. Tonight he saw a fire in her eyes, a passion that pleaded for him to not hold back, he felt it in her fea, in her touch and kiss, her lips sighed as she grinded down against him, and a whisper of his name. He did not stop her as her sighs turned into moans- music to his ears, his mouth encouraged her, leaving her lips free to make as much noise as she wished as they found purchase on her neck, already knowing which spots she liked best. 

“Maitimo…” she whined, feeling him harden beneath her, rather than stopping her, his hand snaked up her dress, pushing it up as he went and feeling on new territory, he pulled at her rear, boldly squeezing the flesh to edge her on. Her skin was warm to the touch and silken, “ah-”

Her excitement built within her at this new level of tenderness they were playing at, the new grounds they were exploring together, her wetness seeped through her panties as she ground herself against him more vigorously. He was trying to restrain himself, and let her do the work, so as to give her more control, simply enjoying reserved touches, and expressing his adoration through his wet kisses along her skin, around her neck and collarbone. He longed to leave a mark somewhere, but fought the urge; however, it would finally prove a point to a certain younger brother of his that she was his. Maedhros could hear her pitch changing, feel her essence now soaking his trousers to the point he could feel it, it made him groan. He wanted her, to feel the wetness fully, to be enveloped in her warmth and make her feel as she truly deserved; to worship her in a way that would banish whatever doubts she had of herself in her mind.

“Maitimo!” she bucked her hips harder, and he reciprocated, his hand rubbing circles along her thigh and squeezing her ass.

“Ana…oh,” he sighed, pulling his head back to watch her face, now twisting sweetly in pleasure, a hint of desperation in her eyes, “Anariel…” 

He felt it too- the tense feeling, he had almost forgot it until she came into his life, and sparked these urges again. Goodness, is this all it would take to get him to spend? He quite enjoyed the glorious friction and pressure she was using against him, he was achingly hard, and he had not had the luxury of sex in decades. Perhaps he would, but he was eager to see her finish first, not that it took long, in moments her breath was hitching, the moans and whimpers became high pitched and she pressed her forehead to his as she reached her high. A small and shaky climax that brought her a large burst of pleasure and endorphins; Maedhros moaned at the feeling of it through their fea, the shock it made in his system sent shivers down his spine, but he did not spend- barely able to restrain himself.

“Maitimo,” she mewled, kissing him gently, with appreciation and wonder, he could tell she wanted more, not that she was being obvious, but he just knew her, her hunger for him and the passion her fire set in her heart, “I-I think- I want…”

He chuckled airily, smiling tenderly, and kissing her back with small pecks, “why don’t you get ready for bed, and we will see where this leads?”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexa, queue Feels Like the First Time by Journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW warnings :3 you know hehe  
> PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS THIS CHAPTER TOOK ME 3 DAYS, 15 PAGES AND 8159 WORDS  
> This chapter took so much work and a lot of doubt on my part, I hope you like it, I tried to make it sweet and romantic not just vulgar. There are words I repeat because there are only so many synonyms for soft and tender, kay?
> 
> Anyways, without further adieu....

Anariel blinked, quite surprised at what she heard from her beloved. Was he serious? Would he truly, finally, let her have him tonight? He laughed at her confusion, moving to stand and forcing her back as he moved, though with no malice, “r-really?”

He nodded, guiding her to stand, leaning down to kiss the side of her head, right above the point of her ear, the action sent a shiver down her spine, “really,” he said, his voice a deeper timber than normal, “you have broken down my walls Anariel, melted my ice heart with your passions and stolen it from my chest.” His lips pressed to her cheek, then down her jaw, she could feel his tongue teasing her skin, his hand never left her body, wandering dangerously low along her waist, “may as well let you have the rest of my body as payment for lightening my spirit.” he said sweetly, though kept his sharp humor.

She felt her chest tighten joyously at his admission, she pulled away from him to look him directly in the eyes, “Maitimo,” her eyes met his, seeing the truth within them, words that neither had yet built up the courage to say, but both accepted as undeniable fact, “you...you want this as badly as I do?”

Maedhros chuckled, “Darling, would like nothing more than to lay you down and ravish you,” he grinned, feeling her excitement, palpable through her fea, “to show you how much I adore you,” his lips met hers with a feather light touch, she may have been tempting him these past few weeks, and now it was his turn to play, “to give you every ounce of love and pleasure that you rightfully deserve.”

Anariel whined, wrapping her arms around him, trying to pull him closer, deepen the kiss, but still he avoided her, “then why-”

“I told you, you need to get ready for bed.” he tutted, pulling away fully, taking her by the hand and guiding her towards the door, “you have had quite a day today, I saw how hard you worked with your flames this morning, then dueling with Tyelko before supper and that letter seems to have taken quite a bit of your energy. A nice warm bath would do wonders to help you relax-”

Anariel opened her mouth to protest as he led her down the halls toward her own room, “M-Mae! Are you trying to tell me nicely I smell?” 

“Oh no- of course not,” he assured, “I just want to make sure you are completely comfortable,” he grinned at her as he opened her door for her, leaning down once more so he was eye level with her, “because you will be need to be...relaxed...in order to take me fully,” he enjoyed the way her pupils widened, a mixture of lust and anticipation filled her dark eyes, “and I will spend the entire night worshipping you. I find it unlikely that you will be able to leave my bed without some effort in the morning.”

Her heart picked up its pace in her chest at his new tone, finding it quite invigorating, and as much as she wished to forgo this seemingly pointless step in his game, she could only nod, “I-I-”

He kissed her one last time with a tender passion, slow and sensual, “I want this to be perfect for you, my beautiful Áre,” he assured, “for us.” he pressed his forehead to hers, “I wish to make this moment between us be something of joy and love. We both deserve it.” Maedhros smiled softly, “as corny as it sounds, trust me.”

She nodded, “you will be there when I knock?” a small part of her still couldn’t quite believe that he wanted her like this, and was afraid it was all farce.

“I will.”

Anariel nodded again, confirming the idea in her head before smiling back at him and kissing him before turning to scurry along to start a bath, “then you better be ready for me Maitimo.”

***

Did it usually take a bath this long to run? The tub seemed to take a ridiculously long time to fill. She spent the time fluttering around her room like a bird too impatient to remain in a cage, gathering her garments for bed- should she wear underwear? Would it matter? Which nightgown would he like best? She could have sworn that he gave her a longer look when she wore the pink one, it was her favorite color, and she liked how innocent and soft she appeared with it. That one would do. She had collected a few lovely smelling lotions as time passed, Antisse had been generous enough to find her some that suited her tastes- her favorite was a rich fruity one that just so happened to give her skin a lovely shimmer as well. She even acquired a matching body wash somehow, yes that would do too.

She was relieved that she burnt off quite a bit of her built up powers earlier that day with her display, so that hopefully nothing caught on fire if she got a little too out of control. When she stepped into the tub, the water around her hissed slightly, the plumbing in Himring was a marvel she had not expected, however the water still was lukewarm at best. She scrubbed her skin, exfoliating it with a rough cloth before taking a little more time cleaning it with the soap, washing her hair as well, glad that she could dry it on a whim without causing damage. Anariel did her best to relax, as Maedhros had suggested, but the memory of the suggestion made her imagination flare. She felt her longing build at the thought of his reference to his size, her mind had a good idea of what he would have to offer, remembering the feeling of what she felt grinding against him. As her train of thought left her rushedness to get ready, it drifted to the thought of laying down before him, legs spread and her body began to feel desire. Her hand slipped under the water and between her legs, anticipating what his fingers would feel like instead of hers. Longer, stronger, she let her head fall back softly against the edge of the tub as her mind played the scenario out. 

And suddenly she could feel his humor in her mind, his own lust, it had been their before, their fea connecting them at moments of high emotional moments though he was often more receptive. They have played this game a time or two; discreetly, and never said anything of it, but Anariel quite liked it. She did not stop in her exploration of her body, instead she let herself go further, her hand that was not between her legs teased her upper body, feeling along her breasts and tickling at her ribs. She wondered what he saw in his mind, or was it just the feeling? Her mind showed her a vision of him, what he would do to her- or perhaps he was showing her what he would like. Her fingers mocked his own as they teased her, circling her clitoris with slow and precise movements, moving to barely enter her before moving out again. She moaned, letting her fingers slip in her body- but they were not enough- not at least compared to what he could be. Still, she played with herself, exciting her body and letting him ‘watch’ her through the bond between their fea, letting him show her images in her mind's eye but never giving her quite enough. He was nearly as bad as her at being a tease- and she loved it. She was glad that no one was around to hear as her voice rose as she drove herself to climax. 

She definitely felt more relaxed than before. Taking her time climbing out of the tub, letting it drain as she dried her body, lathering lotion on her skin and drying her hair. She watched her reflection in the bathroom mirror and she was pleased with what she saw, for the first time in a long while. Anariel could see her beauty- as vain as she felt for a fraction of a moment- she loved this body that had grown through her healing. Curves that showed her healthy diet and how she worked her body, skin that was no longer a sickly pale, despite the winter months she had a healthy hue, her hair had grown out from when she had it cut upon her arrival, it was no longer brittle but silky to the touch and down to her waist, not that she cut it too short, but she took it as a good sign. She daringly would say that her beauty was that deserving of Maitimo, who to her was an adonis, his hair was nearly longer than hers, and a bright auburn that reminded her of wine, the height and stature that was strong and unwavering, eyes that shined with determination and wisdom. Her eagerness grew at the thought of having him, and soon she was out of the bathroom, pulling the nightgown she chose over her head and slippers on her feet, barely remembering to pull a robe on for decencies sake (in case there was an off chance she would run into another Feanorian in the short distance between their rooms) around her shoulders before exiting her room.

As she thought, no one was around as she scampered from her room down the halls to his, it was rather late- her mind for a very brief second flashed to Caranthir as she passed his room and she hoped that she would not disturb him tonight...though it was more for her own benefit, not wanting a scolding from the short tempered elf. Maedhros’ private quarters shared the same suite as his office, which was the first entrance; she opened the door warily, feeling his fea guiding her in. There was nothing different than less than an hour ago when he ushered her out- but she felt the heavier atmosphere, the door to his bedroom was slightly ajar, she wondered if he had been doing the same preparation as she came to stand nervously before it. (He had, in fact, taken the same courtesy of washing himself in preparation, however he did not want to show his own nerves at the time. His real reason for not taking her there and then at that moment was to work up his own courage and tenacity so that he would not fault her, and grant her the best time possible.)

“Áre,” his voice startled her from her thoughts as he opened the door, having sensed her arrival, “you don’t have to stand there and wait- my room will always be open to you.”

They shared a tentative smile and a nervous laugh, she followed him in, playing with the hem of her nightgown and kicking off her slippers. He had changed into a pair of night clothes as well, she knew he was shy with his body due to the scarring, and he covered most of his skin, his prosthetic was gone now, but his hair was completely down without braid, the ends wet from his own bath. He was not as confident with his body as she, but Anariel did not mind, she felt he was quite beautiful but if he did not want to share it all with her quite yet, she would not hold it against him. Anariel took his hand tentatively and gave him a reassuring smile, her fea expressed her feelings, yes she was nervous, but she would not change this moment for anything, and she wanted it to be with him.

He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her to stand between his legs, “I-I usually do not…” he took a deep breath to collect himself, he wanted to be confident in this moment- at least in the act- for her, he knew how much she needed it, “I am usually not one to give up control, you know this.” 

Anariel nodded, her free hand going to caress his face, “remember, we both need to be comfortable, Mae.”

He let out a huff of a laugh, “what I am trying to say is...I would like you to start with the lead, and we can...we can go from there,” he leans his head to the side, kissing her hand softly, “I have...not had the chance to be with a female before. Finno was my only...lover.”

“Oh,” she raised her brows, though it should not quite surprise her, it did not deter her though, “well,” she smiled coyly, “then let me show you the charms of one then.”

“I also want you to know that you can stop at any time- if you ever feel uncomfortable or no longer able-”

“Maitimo,” Anariel took to crawling in his lap- a favored and known position they had been in before, “I trust you, I would not be so eager if I had even an inkling of hesitation. I _know_ that you will never hurt me, I _know_ that…” she hesitates, not wanting to take the words from his mouth...but she knew. She knew from the way he looked at her, the way he held her close and spoke to her, held her hand and listened to every whisper, every cry, how her soul and his danced together and sought each other out. “ _You_ know I love you.”

His breath hitched, she could have swore she could feel his heart stop. His steel eyes seemed to melt as he stared into her own, a mixture of reassurance and adoration swimming in them, even some relief, “I love you too.” he whispered, pulling her closer, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her lips delicately, “I love you,” another kiss to her cheek, “ah, my Áre, I love you.”

They started off slow, as they always did with their kisses, turning more passionate as the minutes passed, but neither were in a rush. There was quite a bit more touching than before, soft and hesitant, Anariel let Maedhros explore her form more thoroughly and let him take his time marveling at it. His hand that had started off on her cheek and neck wandered down her body, shyly, much more so than when he had felt up her skirt not too long ago in his office. Down her arm, then up her waist and ribcage. Their kisses were practiced, in that area both knew what the other liked well enough to where it quickly got them worked up. Maedhros was truly willing to let Anariel lead, knowing that with her past experiences she would need the control, at least this once, to grow familiar with the act of sex being about love rather than domination like she knew that it should be. 

Her lips were the first to stray from joining at the mouth, and go down his jaw, tracing the sharp bone structure with her lips, adoring the handsome feature, then down to his neck, where she began to lick and suckle at his skin, paying close attention to what made his breath catch and drew small noises from him. She wondered how quiet he would remain, if his normally reserved nature would continue during the act. Anariel let her lips worship his skin, kissing every scar on his face, the few along his neck- she found out that along his ear was particularly sensitive. She loved the ears of Quendi, they were expressive and unique, she felt him shiver as her tongue traced along the damaged ear, making sure to be gentle as she went. Being shorter than him she had to kneel on the bed now to reach where she wanted, and his left hand found its way under her rear to support her. 

Maedhros became more bold, letting his hand go beneath her nightgown which hemline reached just above her knee, to feel the skin itself. She was so soft, her skin was supple and tender to the touch, with just the right balance of flesh and muscle for him- she had muscles before when they first met, but he loved the way she became more filled out and more than just lean muscle. His hand massaged her thigh and rear appreciatively, the stub of his right arm did its part as well, pushing at the other side of her gown. Momentarily he was frustrated that he could not use both hands to please her, to do as he wished, and hated how most of the nerve endings on his wrist had been severely damaged. But she paid no mind, taking his actions as a hint as to what he wanted next and leaned back from where she was now leaving small marks at his neck to look at him bashfully.

He knew what generally to expect from a nude woman, he had seen artwork, and statues and back in the years of the trees it was not uncommon to see a naked Teleri female on the beach while visiting Alqualonde. But he had yet to see one so close, and personal, Fingon had been his first and only lover; he has always had an attraction to male and females, but he fell in love with Fingon when they were both young and inexperienced. Another reason he wished for her to take the lead, so he could see what she liked and learn from what she showed him. She teased him a little, as was in her nature, as she went to stand again, playing innocently with the hem of her gown, watching his eyes grow dark and lustful and she slowly hiked it up her legs, revealing her thick thighs. He eyed her hungrily, he did promise her the whole night, and in this night he was determined to taste every inch of hers- when it was his turn to be in charge, he would first like to have his head securely between those thighs. He could see her blush, but she did not stop, letting the hem slowly reveal more of her body to him; she did not wear any sort of undergarment. And would come to find this was not special but a common event for her- a humorous thing between them in the future. Her sex was revealed to him next, probably a major reason for her shyness. He knew it would be different than a male body, and was not inept when it came to anatomy, male or female. Maedhros licked his lips, it was quite a sight though, beautiful to him in a different way than a male would be, smooth and enticing, with a small and subtle amount of downy hair that was a shade or so lighter than what was on her head. She shyly kept her legs together, but he knew that he would be seeing more of it soon, and did not let his gaze linger if it made her uncomfortable. Instead he admired the curve of her hips and ass as it led to her waist and up her ribcage. There was a small divot on her hips- love handles- that would be perfect to hold and grab while he took her, her belly was soft and not concave as it used to be, and the dip of her waist was pleasing to his eye. She was so delicate and soft, but not so much that he would have to be afraid of breaking her, he wanted to touch her everywhere, he lost patience and his hand went to pull her to stand between his legs again, tracing the curves of her waist and hips. He chuckled as her chest jumped, he found a ticklish spot that made her giggle, he loved the way it lit up her face. Finally she moved the nightgown above her head and tossed it to the side, revealing her ample breasts that fit her body just right, not too large to become overwhelming but enough to where they could sit in his hands quite well. He could not get enough of her, his eyes roaming the exposed skin, his hand not able to decide where to land and decided to touch wherever she would let him; and she did not move away. 

Anariel let him take his time growing familiar with her body, at first she had been afraid to show him she was not as dainty as a lot of the female elves that wandered Himring, her body was a little different. But the look in his eyes as he watched her take off her gown boosted her confidence again, she was still shy- but let her trust in him take over. She could feel herself growing needy, between her thighs became slicker as she grew more turned on, and her nipples now exposed to the cool air of his bedroom began to pebble and perk. His lips joined his hand in it’s venture, his right arm pulling her to where he could easily have access to it all, he leaned his head down to first start pressing kisses to her stomach, and the bottom of her ribcage, then pulled her as he moved back on the bed again, getting her to kneel above his lap again as he became daring, his lips and face pressing against her breasts, his nose tickled her nipples as he kissed under each breast, licking and sucking at her skin. He gave the same attention to her sternum before moving to the other, his eyes met hers as he licked her rosy budded nipple and her breath caught. He was growing more confident too, seeing her reactions, where she liked to be touched and that she had yet to move away from him. He sucked it in his mouth gingerly, playing with it between his lips and flicking his tongue over it, hearing her short breaths become whines. Her pupils were blown, he could see her fire in her eyes still, dancing with lust, she was growing impatient with his worship. He smirked and moved to the other, giving it the same amount of attention, he was glad to learn this portion of her body was sensitive.

His hand went to squeeze and feel where his mouth was not, listening to her, but after a minute or so of this, groping her and kissing, licking sucking at her skin he heard her call for him, “Ma-Maitimo…”

He hummed, pulling away, to check and see her face, to read her mood. Her fea was still the same, but he wanted to be sure, “yes, love?”

“T-touch…” he saw the difficulty for her to express what she wanted, but he needed to be sure of her consent, he did not want something to go wrong suddenly when they have already gone so far.

“Áre, use your words,” he got an idea of what she wanted, he could see it in a hazy vision within his mind through their bond, as he had before when she was touching herself while in the bath, “this is how you are going to get what you want. You have to tell me.”

Her cheeks were turning a dusty pink, but after a moment of her mouth opening and closing, she spoke abashedly, and took his hand in hers, guiding it where she wanted, “touch me here…”

He chuckled, “ah yes, you aren’t too shy to show me what you like, are you?” he tried to make it sound sexy, but he only had a general idea, again, what pleased a female compared to a male. This would be a learning experience for both of them.

She whined again, he found it endearing, but she was also determined to get what she wanted. Her cheeks were growing more red by the second as she opened her legs a bit further above him, and guided his fingers between her body. Her crevice was surprisingly warm and moist, it was appealing, Maedhros could smell her desire as she opened her legs, and could not wait to experiment in another way. But for now he was content to watch her as her fingers showed his to the lips of her sex, brushing them along the length of them, where it was soft and plush. She took two of his fingers, which ones she preferred, the middle and ring finger and pressed them between the outer lips, and he felt the wetness of her more fully. Anariel whimpered when the pads of his fingers pressed a small pearl of flesh, a certain bundle of nerves where she let his fingers circle and press a bit more pressure against before pulling them back down along to her slick folds, where the small bone of her pubis caved into the entrance of her vagina. She guided his fingers into her core, he marveled at the feeling of her silken channel so hot and wet, he could practically feel her heart beating through the intimate area.

“Ah,” she drew a deep breath in, his fingers were much better than her own, thicker and longer, able to reach far better places, she just needed to teach him how, “c-curl your fingers like- yes! Like that-” he was a quick learner, no doubt the bond between them helped, he was also quite studious.

“Like that, Melda?” he muttered, watching her expression with awe, experimenting with how to move the digits within her and which brought her more pleasure based on her reactions.

She nodded briskly and her hands went up to stabilize herself by holding onto his biceps, “Mhmm! U-use your thumb...h-here.” She quite liked it when he began to move his fingers in and out, mixing that with the curling motion she had him do before. She managed to free one of her hands from his muscles to point out her clit, showing him the motion she liked best. 

Anariel kissed him as he continued to play with her body, her lips were a little less refined as sweet noises left them but she was able to convey her feelings rather well. Her legs began to buckle, but he didn’t mind, somehow able to roll them to where she was on her back and he was kneeling in front of her, watching his fingers dip in and out. “This is okay?” he asked, his eyes darting up to her face after changing positions.

She approved enthusiastically her lips swollen red sensuously opening and closing as she tried to verbalize, “yes,” she managed, “a...a little faster-”

Maedhros felt his length aching in his light pants he had worn for the night, a tent had become prominent as he watched her squirming beneath him and as much as he craved some sort of touch, he was too entranced by her reactions to him. He also knew that if he wanted to be certain she was ready for him, it would be best for her to climax once more. And she was so close, he added a third finger effortlessly, she molded around him tightly and invited him with a moan. The sounds of her arousal were growing, he was doing something right from the looks of it, he could feel her building to her end though her fea, which danced around them hot, only to be teased with the coolness of his wind, though it was more stoking her passions than erasing them. 

Anariel felt her heart was ready to leap from her chest, Maedhros brought her higher and higher her mind was lost in a haze and she did not hold herself back from feeling what he had to give her. Her body began to contract around him, “Do you like that?” he asked, his voice deep and low in his chest, making her whimper and her pussy clench.

“Yes,” she panted, his finger sped up along her pearl, his fingers finding a spot within her that made her toes curl, “y-yes! Just a bit more...more…” She let her head roll to the side and her body arch, “Maitimo!”

“So lovely,” he cooed, watching her as her orgasm hit, her eyes screw shut and her eyebrows furrow, both her hands wrapped around his wrist, but in a way to plead for more rather than asking him to stop. He was now achingly hard, feeling how tightly her body felt around his fingers made him wonder what it would feel like inside her, how much more euphoria he could bring her when he filled her to the brim, fit together with her like two puzzle pieces. He continued the motions of before, when he would curl his fingers, he rubbed the place he found earlier as he dragged them out of her and repeated the process, hitting that spot like a trigger and lingering within her now that her walls gripped around him, “my feisty little Áre,” he couldn’t get enough of her blissed out face as she cried out for him, he let her roll her hips and chase her high a while, lewd sounds came from where his fingers worked her body as more liquid spurted around his hand, “are you melting for me?”

She nodded vigorously as she panted and moaned, trying to catch her breath, “I want to melt with you, together…”

Maedhros’ eyes were filled with gratification and reverence to her, he had no words to express this the way he wished, but she could feel it, and it made her heart leap for joy. She could hardly believe how lucky she was to have him- somehow he had fallen in love with her, despite what she had been through in the past, and knowing how much healing she had to do- still had to do. He was so tender and careful in this moment, and she was glad that she made him feel the same way.

He pulls his fingers from her, watching the way her juices made them drip with her essence, mostly clear with a little bit of a sticky, milky substance. Maedhros pressed his fingers to his lips, smelling her scent mixed with the primal smell of carnal pleasure, her face grew red again, embarrassed. He grinned, letting his tongue out to taste her, sweet and fruity, it was perfect, “Melda, you taste as sweet as you look.”

“M-Mae…” she came back to sit on her knees on the bed, Maedhros had been sitting on his heels on the bed in front of her, though they were both on the bed, he was still taller.

He licked his fingers off individually, “I would like to taste you fully,” he purred, cupping her cheek once he had cleaned off his fingers, pulling her close, kissing her tenderly, “take my time learning what makes you tick.”

She let out a high pitched noise, showing her impatience, and let her hands wander his body as they would, his clothing was rather sheer and light, when she pressed against it, she could feel his muscle and flesh. Her hand lowered to what she truly wanted, and her eyes met his as she stroked her hand along the length of it, pushing the bulge in his thin night pants, watching his teasing smirk falter, “we have all night.” she muttered, “and right now I think I will truly burst in flames if you do not take me.”

He groaned as she continued to apply pressure, though she respected his boundaries, not going farther without his permission, “so impatient.”

She grew aroused again- as if it ever faltered- feeling his thickness and length. He had been right, she would need preparation in order to take him fully, “I know you want it too.”

Maedhros chuckled, “what gave it away?”

He kissed her once more before parting from her momentarily, only to reposition himself to where he was now at her side, laying on his back, Anariel turned to be at his side, watching his hand play with the tie of his trousers, “I think...this will be best,” she licked her lips as he undid the knot and loosened it, “it will leave you in control of the pace.”

She nodded, watching his hand lower his pants just enough to expose himself to her, her mouth began to water. His erect cock was generous, to say the least, long and curved slightly up, the head was red and swollen, glistening with precum that was enticing her to have a taste. She was always a giver, in the past she had loved giving as much as she had receiving, though...under certain circumstances her opinion had changed… For Maedhros, she would try again- perhaps at a later time...so as not to ruin the mood. It’s thickness was enough she knew would gratify her, but would sting to say the least had she not properly prepared. There was a subtle amount of pubic hair that matched that on his head, but not an overwhelming amount- a benefit to being elven. Her cunt began to ache for it though, her body felt a yearning to be connected to his, her spirit buzzed with excitement as if it had been waiting for this moment. 

“You…” Anariel bit her lip, moving closer, leaning down to kiss him, her upper body pressing against his still clothed chest, “you have to tell me if it is too much for you too, okay?” Anariel knew she was not the only one with past trauma, and as much as she appreciated how slow he was taking this, she wanted to do the same and make sure he was fine.  
  


He nodded his agreement, “very well,” Maedhros watched as she finally straddled his body, and they both moaned as she slid her wetness along his length, “I-I don’t know how long I will last, Áre,” his face was only a few shades lighter than his hair at this admission, “It’s been...decades… and you are so tight, and warm-”

She took his hand, continuing to grind herself against him slowly, “Maitimo, I came at least three times already tonight,” she giggled, her smile made his unease lighten, “I am stimulated to the point a fourth can come rather easily.”

He snickered at her lewd pun, “and where...where would you like- like me to, uh..finish?”

Anariel found it relieving at times that he was not always as composed as he let off, that he could get nervous like her, but knew better than to tease his stuttering, she simply eased it for him, “do you have a preference? If I remember correctly, quendi have control over conception to a certain extent.”

Perhaps they should have had this talk before growing intimate, but at least it was being done, “you’re right, then,” he watched her body for a moment, her beauty, and he felt so proud that she was his- not just for this beauty- but for her strength, physical and mental, her tenacity and her kindness, he would be able to have it all as long as she would let him. “I would like to cum inside you,” his tenor deepened again and his eyes filled with desire, his hand now guiding her hip as she rolled them onto him, he could feel her body longing for him, twitching against his cock, she was holding herself off, though he no longer saw the point, they both wanted this, and had been dragging it on for too long, “I want you filled to the brim with me,” she whimpered, he could see from her expression she quite liked that, “so that you know that you are mine now,” he wanted to wash away her fear of that...other, the one that hurt her, made her powerless when she should have felt like a goddess, “and that I will always bring you bliss, and make you feel as you rightfully deserve.”

“Maitimo…!” she leaned down to press her lips to his again, as if to confirm this is what she wanted.

“Anariel,” he sits himself up on his elbows to watch her as she lifts herself, he shudders as she grasps his shaft, finally guiding the cockhead to her entrance, teasing herself just another moment. “Áre,” his grip on her hip tightened as she felt her body try and accommodate him. Her face was concentrated and her eyes glazed over.

She wanted to have him inside her already, but she knew better, taking her time with him, she whimpered, feeling the head of his member within her, soft but also stiff, inch by inch until she was about halfway down she started to move her hips a bit more. “A-ah, oh, yes, oh, Maitimo-”

He groaned, cursing as she moved, it was almost too much- intoxicating with her enveloping him. Her body welcomed him at a steady pace, hot and nearly pulling more into her before she could lower herself, a spike of pleasure ran from his cock straight to his head, making him nearly dizzy from its intensity. Maedhros could tell the difference between penetrating a male anus versus the female vagina, both were highly enjoyable, but the sensations were different. Anal felt more of a single ring of pressure, then softness, most of the pleasure came from the ring of pressure moving and pulling and of course the pleasure you were giving your partner. It took a lot of oils and patience, especially for him, to be taken by a partner in this way (though it was very gratifying when done). Vaginal was like putting on a glove, the whole of which was tight around him and had natural lubricant that made it easier and although it took time, once it was all the way in, and Anariel had adjusted, she would be able to move much more freely in much less time.

Her small movements made them both release blissful sighs and moans, and it made it easier with every downward action, she took a little more, “Áre! A-aah, oh fuck-” he stuttered, “oh, oh My Darling-”

Anariel whimpered and smiled, a hesitant giggle left her lips as she watched his face contort in euphoria, “Mai-Maitimo...y-you feel so good...so good.” she praised, her own feelings making her giddy, happy, joyous. She could feel this level of satisfaction without fear of being hurt, she was not coerced into this, or drugged, there was no evil literally looming over her, she was in charge of this, she picked the pace and how she wanted it. Anariel was glad it was Maedhros, he understood her; her fear and her resentment towards that evil and chased it away in this moment so they could enjoy it together. 

When she was finally fully seated, she stayed still like that, ingraining the memory into her mind, heart and body. She felt so full, complete with him, there was no other thought on the mind than the two of them expressing their adoration for one another. Maedhros had to concentrate in the moment not to release at that point, her walls were hot and moist, fitted around him tightly but not so much that it was uncomfortable. Every nerve on his body was on fire now, anywhere she touched he felt spark and in the best way possible. When Anariel moved again he let out another noise as a more solid nub of flesh rubbed against his cockhead, feeling similar to how her lips felt the same malleability but different than the wet silk of her passage. When this happened her hips jerked, and a high pitched chirp left her lips, her pussy clenched around him.

“Ah- O..oh! F-fuck!” she stuttered, her smile dropping for a moment, trying the movement again, biting her lip.

Maedhros restrained from bucking up into her he could hardly concentrate but he managed to ask: “a-are you alright, Melda? How do you feel?”

Her hands gathered the fabric of his tunic and she smiled at him again, “you hit my cervix,” she stammered as she spoke, words were becoming harder to form for both of them, “it just felt..different is all.”

“Good, different, or bad?”

Anariel tried it a third time, her body clenching again, making him huff, “good...in moderation.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, “I will keep that in mind.”

“Are you okay?” she asked for assurance before moving again, “I-I am okay- I am great.”

He nodded, pulling her hips again, “very much so, though if you do not move soon-” he groaned as she followed his prompt, “Áre, please don’t stop… agh!”

She nodded, picking up her pace as gradually as she could, finding a rhythm between bouncing herself up and down and grinding her hips against him. Both could no longer form sentences but the encouraging noises were enough to let the other know they felt the same pleasure. Their fea seemed to move together as one, it was soon after the pace began to build that they could feel their connection growing. Anariel moved from sitting upright, where Maedhros could watch her breasts bouncing and her face, reading her emotions as she went, to laying on his chest, kissing sloppily at his neck and moaning in his ear. He wrapped his arms around her, giving her enough freedom to grind her hips against him, and repositioned as well, feeling the end for both of theme building quickly. Now that she was more comfortable and confident in him and their love making he was willing to take just a fraction more of a lead; he anchored his feet on the bed, and bent his legs at the knees a fraction so he could thrust up into her as she grinded against him. 

“O-oh! Yes, yes! Maitimo! Mae- please-” Anariel cried, he could feel she was close. 

His hand grabbed her ass, spurring on her movements, his right arm wrapped around her back. “Anariel! Ana..! Áre- oh, I’m going to- I want to-”

They could feel it now; their bond strengthening between the two of them, snapping into place and it was no longer blurry or easily ignored. An indescribable feeling of connection and intimacy between the two of them were their minds and souls became like one. Maedhros could hear her internal voice crying for him with euphoria, her sense of wholeness, how safe and protected he made her feel. The exhilaration Maedhros felt, the high his body was on the cusp of spilling over, made Anariel’s that much more intense. She knew now his feelings for her were true and with pure purpose, the hurts that he had suffered she helped ease them, though they would never be fully gone, his mind would always carry that burden- at least she could make him feel worthy of love again, and of this physical heaven they reached together. 

Maedhros was driven on by the pleas he felt come from her, she wanted his release, to be filled with his seed. Her verbally begging him to cum, “yes- Áre, cum for me, ah!” he wasn’t sure on why she asked permission, but he wouldn’t dare deny her. “Let go Love, ah!”

Anariel saw stars as she finally climaxed. She wished she could hold herself up to see her lover's face as he reached his, but her strength failed her. Her body moved on its own accord now, her hips rolling against him, the way his pelvic bone brushed her clit just enough, the feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of her, the sounds of his pleasure and the feeling of their fea twining together was too much to bear. A dam burst within her mind as endorphins flooded her system bringing her to heights greater than any she had known. And in a matter of seconds she felt Maedhros release inside her, hot and thick shooting within her as his hips stuttered up and his own voice sang with her own. Her cunt milked at his cock, pulling every last drop of his orgasm from him, there was a weightless feeling in his head, he had no other thought than what sensations wracked their bodies.

He held onto her for a long while, stroking her back softly as they both caught their breath, she whispered praises and worship to him, her lips unable to express her innermost feelings into words- but he felt it through their bond, now solidified- and she could feel his as well. For a while they both still moved their bodies, though lazily and not with much effort as their sensitive spots still tingled. Maedhros kissed where he could reach her head, muttering his own reassurances to her, expressing his love for her with every breath and they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking for a few minutes as they slowly drifted down. Anariel did not make it to get off of him, and quite frankly Maedhros was very content in remaining lodged in her heat. He could feel his own cum dripping from her body, around the exposed base of his cock and balls, but he didn’t mind- in fact he felt an odd sense of pride and satisfaction in it.

He could feel her mood changing as well, very slightly, but as her fea began to settle, and her euphoria began to lighten she began to cry softly. “Oh, oh Áre? Áre what’s wrong? Love?”

Maedhros fretted, sitting up, Anariel remained in his lap, still refusing to be off him or leave his arms. He sushed her soothingly, rubbing her back. He took it as a good sign that she wanted to stay connected to him, but could still feel her distress. Anariel tried to get a grip, she hated that she ruined the moment, but she couldn’t help the tears, partially from relief and part from her own confusion. It had felt so good, and she felt so loved, there was no doubt that she belonged to him and him to her now, but it was so much different than what she had gone through before. Although she felt ‘owned’ in a sense, it was completely the opposite of the feeling she had felt when Melkor had forced himself upon her. It was pure, and real, there was cruelty or underlying evil; it was just her and Maedhros- who had loved her, and fallen in love with.

“I-I… you love me?” she pulled away from his shoulder to look him in the eye, now that they were connected like this, she could have felt his lie- but she wanted to see it in his eyes.

His face showed his hurt for her, but quickly changed to a softness, and devotion, “of course!” he breathed, and she could see he was telling the truth, she could feel it in the cooling brush of his fea, trying to stoke her embers to happiness again, “I love you,” he pressed his forehead to hers, “can you feel it?” he smiled.

She gulped, closing her eyes to concentrate of the invisible force around them, curling around them, the wonderful comforting warmth of her fire and the soft touch of his wind. Through it she felt it- his true feelings. How thankful he was to have her to melt his frigid stiffness, he never thought of how damaging it could be to be so closed off for so long. The heaviness of bearing his stress alone, how it made him feel secluded and solitary, she was able to help resolve it, to make him feel less strained, and alone. He knew that she understood him, loved him the way that he was and it made him feel stronger for it; despite the things he has done in the name of his father’s oath and the blood he had shed, despite the scars that littered his skin and the pieces of him that were missing. Maedhros did love her in a way he never thought possible again, and Anariel loved him too, she never thought it would be possible to give herself to another like that again- but with him she craved it.

Anariel nodded, “I love you too.”

He wiped her tears away and kissed her forehead, and then her eyes, and her nose, then her lips, light as a feather, “I will never hurt you, my Love, never,” he assured, “Melda, my Áre.”

She kissed him tenderly, believing him with no doubt left in her mind, “show me how much you love me.” her pout turned into a coy smile as she calmed down, giggling at the lifted brow look he gave her, “worship me as you promised before.”

He chuckled darkly, “ah yes, I believe I told you ‘all night’?” he grinned as she nodded enthusiastically. “Then let’s get to it.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anariel finally gets her surprise!!
> 
> Also, I have a surprise for you all! I am challenging myself to post one shot spin off's with Anariel hooking up with each of the Feanorian brothers, and after this chapter, the first one takes place! Check the end of the chapter for the link!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a pintrest board for Flaming Hearts if you wanna check it out, it has some of the images I use to visualize settings and characters as well as just aesthetics I think fit the story!  
> https://www.pinterest.com/adriannacollazo/flaming-hearts/

Anariel rested on Maedhros’ chest, listening to his heart's hammering beat begin to settle, her lips occasionally turning to place kisses on the scars that littered his pectorals and abdomen. She wanted to express how much she loved every inch of his skin, and the first time he finally took off his clothing fully she worshiped his body as he had done to her, now her butterfly kisses were a routine that he adored. They had a difficult time keeping their hands off of one another during the day, it seemed like anytime they were alone for more than five minutes their bodies gravitated towards one another. But there was work that needed to be done, Maedhros had a Keep to run and had to start leaving a plan as to what he wanted his officers to do while he was away. Anariel who had become comfortable speaking Sindarin and with the histories of the Quendi (at least as told by an Elda) chose to pick up new crafts and kept herself busy with that. 

“We must get up, Love,” Maedhros murmured in her hair, his right arm wrapped around her waist, and his left hand held hers as she played with his fingers, “it’s well past time to start the day.”

They had woken up around sunrise, however, while getting ready for breakfast Maedhros couldn’t resist getting a taste of her as he watched her stretch in her sleep, “must we?” she whined playfully, “I’m sure the keep will run fine for one day if we decide to spend our time here.”

He chuckled, forcing himself to sit up, adoring the small noise of protest she made, “Ai, perhaps it could, however, we still need to pack for our trip, Pityo and Telvo also said they wish to take you into town today, that you’ve been needing supplies for your hobby,” he scooted himself towards the end of the bed, watching her cuddle with his pillow and pout, “and I happen to have heard from a reliable source that you will finally be given a very special gift today.”

Maedhros grinned watching her sit up enthusiastically, “oh, really?” 

He nodded, “yes, and how are you going to receive it if you are tangled up in my sheets all day?”

He watched her as she thought out a plan, to get what she had been wanting the whole of winter and spend as much time with him getting what she wanted right now, “I suppose you are right,” she let her legs fall over the bed, Maedhros couldn’t help but to admire her naked form, as she got up and walked to the wardrobe where a stash of her clothing had been hidden. He had to hold his temper the first time he saw her back- the rest of her body had minimal scarring but her back had several large scars running from shoulder down to her rear. It was the morning after their first time, when she turned to dress, he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed them before (having seen her nude twice previously due to….her fiery fits and her little swim in a grotto though he supposed he tried to be polite and not stare at the time). Anariel crawled back into bed with him, explaining in a small and soft voice how Morgoth would treat her wounds and be sure not to leave scarring- but the marks on her back would always remain, as punishment for disobedience. But she often chose to forget about them- literally considering them out of her sight so out of her mind. She did not like to think of them often. So when she looked back at him, she winked brazenly, thinking he only saw her sumptuous ass, “sounds like a busy day then.”

“Indeed,” Maedhros stood, stretching his limbs, hearing a deep pop from his right shoulder and groaning, the changing of seasons usually made the joint worse, but he tried not to show it. 

She felt it through their bond anyways and turned to him as her gown fell down her body, “Mae,” Anariel met him halfway to the wardrobe, her hands resting on his abdomen and her eyes observing his shoulder, concerned, “I really think we should start using that salve Telvo mentioned the other day, it would help.”

He recalled his brother- ever the herbalist- mentioning the concoction over dinner, he had been saying that he was able to grow some herbs and medicinal plants successfully that had been taken from Valinor and that they flowered again recently. Amras did not outright say it would be beneficial for his eldest brother, but he gave Anariel a ‘look’ while explaining the properties of it, it was like the ones the Sindar had made, but more potent. Anariel was not the only one aware that Maedhros was in pain, as much as he tried to hide it, his siblings noticed because they cared deeply for him. On the sly, Amras had even brought a jar of already made salve to him and rather than saying it was for Maedhros he made the excuse of Celegorm beating Anariel up too often during combat training.

“Ah, but the smell of it is quite strong, it could rub off on the sheets.” Maedhros excused, kissing her forehead before moving around her to get a set of trousers on, at least.

“It is a strong smell, but it’s quite pleasant,” she contested, watching as he dressed himself in his preferred colors and set his prosthetic on his wrist. He did not like having assistance doing this so she let him be. She set to detangle her hair as he did so, taking a seat on one of the reading chairs. “And if you slept with an old shirt then it would not stain.”

“You are rather insistent on this.” he lifted a brow, taking a brush from his vanity to help her comb her unruly locks.

“Only because I do not see the point in you being in pain if there is a solution for it.” she took the brush from him, brushing her own hair, expressing the point that he would not get her to forget this topic with a little extra tenderness (as much as she appreciated it.) Elves quite enjoyed grooming one another- especially their hairs, they saw it as a form of bonding as well as expression of love, among the Noldor especially, Anariel had grown quite used to letting Maedhros braid her hair in the morning. She had never been good with more than simple side braids and preferred her hair loose or in a simple ponytail because of it, but it was practically the next day after their first love making he insisted she sit and let him do so for her. She thought it was difficult for him with only having his left hand, and his prosthetic which he was able to manipulate to an extent using his fea (a secret magic from the forge Feanor had taught his son) but his braids turned out better than anything she could have done herself. He often wore simple braids in his hair, occasionally more intricate depending on the situation, she always thought that Maglor helped him with this, but she should have known better. If he could master swordsmanship with only his left hand, braiding should be rather simple as well. This also made it painfully obvious to his brothers that morning at breakfast that their relationship was solidified, if they could not already smell the way their scents mingled as mates (or the blatant odor of their morning sex). Celegorm teased about the mark Maedhros left on her collarbone, hiding his disappointment, but quieted down when Maedhros gave him a rather smug (but still aggressively warning) glare.

Maedhros sighed, watching as she took no time in being careful with her curls, brushing them all out and going to tie it in a simple bun, “very well, I will let you get me all oiled up,” he conceded, “but please let me braid your hair today- you’ve made it frizzy by brushing it that way, Melda.”

She smiled victoriously and turned to give him the brush, “yes, of course.”

*****

“Ana,” Tyelpe called for Anariel’s attention from his seat beside his father as they finished their morning meal.

She turned her gaze to him from where she had been staring lost in thought at her plate, “yes, Tyelpe?” Anariel smiles, remembering what Maedhros had told her earlier.

He sighed, knowing her suspicions were already up, he always had a good sense of her emotions. Tyelpe must have had some sort of empathic abilities his family did not, “there is something that father and I would like to show you in the drawing room now that breakfast is over.”

Anariel beamed, “oh? What could it be, I wonder?”

Curufin rolled his eyes, “don’t be coy, you know precisely what it is.”

She giggled, standing from her chair as the others did, “I’m so excited!” 

Before leaving the room Anariel looks to Maedhros who pulls her closer tenderly and kisses the top of her head. Now that their relationship was out in the open, he did not mind showing small signs of affection around others. “I will see you later, Melda.”

Anariel squeezed his hand fondly, “see you.”

“Enough with the sap,” Celegorm tossed his napkin on his plate and got up from his seat boisterously, “I can only take so much before getting a cavity.”

“Jealousy is not becoming Tyelko,” Amrod chimed in next to Amras.

Curufin tried to hide his smile, as he walked out of the room, Tyelpe followed suit but turning to her with an excited grin of his own, “your patience has paid off this winter, follow us before I make you wait another week.”

“What patience? She’s been harassing you to give it away the entire time.” his father muttered, leading the way down the hall.

Anariel quickened her pace to keep up, she couldn’t stop herself from growing more and more excited as they got closer to the drawing room, “only because I know your work is the best among the Noldor, how could I not be excited about such a gift?”

Curufin snorted, “flattery will get you nowhere.”

As they approached the door, Anariel tried to hide her excitement, though it was palpable, she wanted to make the moment last, and that would include taking things slow and not moving too fast. Curufin and Tyelpe entered the room first, opening the door and beckoning her forward. The curtains to the window were open, streams of light were shining down on a pedestal that had been placed with purpose in the middle of that light, to give it a better ambience, beside it was a large mass, covered with a sheet she could not see what was underneath yet, and on that pedestal was the most beautiful jewelry she had yet to see in her life. Anariel was in awe of its beauty- a circlet made of fine gold, twisted and shaped into a garden of gentle flowers and leaves, delicately formed so that although all flowers and leaves were of the same plant type, each petal was unique. The flowers had diamonds as their centers, shining brightly in the sunlight, and scattered about the circlet were pearls, it was almost too big to be considered a circlet, more like a tiara, definitely not for day to day use, as some of the elves around her preferred to wear. She moved closer to see in more detail, to the side of the tiara were a set of earrings, both matching the design of the headpiece, but different. The one that was for her right ear was more simple; a long dangling earring with a pearl stud and two flowers with diamond centers hanging from a delicate gold chain. The left was the same at the bottom but had a golden chain extending upwards where it would pierce her pointed ear tip with a diamond. She was impressed by this small difference, it meant that they had taken the time to observe her and see that often she wore her hair in such a way that her right ear was covered and the left was exposed. The whole jewelry was in good taste and matched her to a tee, she was not one to boast about her flames, or even desire others to see, and they knew this. Observing her personality and getting to know that she was soft and kind, flowers were much more suited to her than any flame design. 

“Oh...Oh I do not know...what to say,” she gasped, staring at the gold, admiring it, almost afraid to touch it, “it’s….beautiful, truly I- I do not deserve this gift-”

Curufin clucked his tongue, “do you know me to be one who would make such intricate gifts for one that does not?”

She turned to him, his usual stern features had softened, “what have I done in your eyes to be worthy of such a gift?” she questioned, tears welling in her eyes.

Tyelpe smiled tenderly, “sometimes it is hard to put feelings of gratitude into words, so this is what we have done to express how thankful we are for the light you have brought us in such dark and uncertain times.”

Anariel blinked rapidly, trying to rid her eyes of the waterworks, and smiled, giggling, “it is stunning, I don’t know if I could wear it without being outshined by it.”

“Nonsense,” Curufin scoffed, “your beauty and innerflame will make the jewels shine, not the other way around.”

“There is one more thing-” Tyelpe added, his hand now on the cloth of the larger mass, “this we did not make- but uncle Moryo designed around the jewelry. Antisse told us the color you prefer and got your sizes recently- so I hope it fits.”

Anariel’s heart skipped a beat and she nodded, “C-Cara- Moryo- did what now?”

Tyelpe removed the sheet, showing Anariel what he had meant, and her breath caught in her chest. A dress was revealed to her- a gown- that was nearly as marvelous as the tiara, long and flowing in an A line type design using dusty pink tulle and silk materials. The top was made mostly of a mesh in the same color as the bottom, and long sleeves, golden floral embroidery and stitching covered the chest and flowed down the sleeves, gathering around the waist and faded and thinned as they fell around the gown. There were pearls stitched in, and in every flowers center, a diamond, to where if she were to sway, the dress would glitter, and under were a pair of matching heels in the same pink but made with satin, the heels were gold, forming a floral vine before they came to the tip. She circled around it, her fingers very carefully feeling the material, that as heavy as it seemed to look, was nearly weightless, the back was a bit higher, the buttons made of tiny gold flowers, but she was somewhat relieved seeing this; knowing that her scars would be covered with this and her hair. 

“I-I...where do I wear this? It is...far too lovely to wear only in the castle-” she stuttered.

“I believe you would be welcome to wear this, and much more ‘lovely’ dresses around the castle all you wish, the residence certainly wouldn’t complain,” Curufin said, she supposed it was a complement, “however, there is that festival that you will be attending in Doriath, this outfit is meant for that night. I expect you to outshine every maiden there.” he said haughtily, “so that the Sindar know that the Noldor are able to have much greater treasures.”

“Father…” Tyelpe sighed, then turned to Anariel, “we simply think that your beauty is deserving of a night's attire that could complement it.”

Anariel blushed, “I think that your work will outshine me, but I will do my best to prove your point.”

Curufin nodded approvingly, “I will not be there to see it so I expect you to write to me of the night and the guests' reactions.”

She smirked, reading Curufin’s vibe, “I am beginning to think you are bitter that you will not be able to see me in it,” she jested, “however, if you would like, I could try it on and we could have a dance before you leave for your lands.”

“Ask your mate first,” he prompted, “because I do like to  _ admire  _ my work thoroughly.” Curufin said slyly, with a hint of fire in his eyes. Anariel could see his pride getting the best of him and raised a brow, he handed her a box that he had set to the side, “one last gift, though I do not expect you to show this one to the court of Doriath.”

“Father!” Tyelpe blushed at the sudden seemingly forward flirtation.

Anariel raised a brow, opening the box curiously, but getting the hint to do so subtly. She grinned at what she saw within, “lovely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of what I had in mind for the tiara, but of course with more shine and pretty cause, Curufin and Tyelpe made it!
> 
> https://www.pinterest.com/pin/457115430933385666/?nic_v2=1a6x6zh3x
> 
> And this is as close as I could get to what I imagine the dress being like:
> 
> https://www.pinterest.com/pin/792774340646198886/?nic_v2=1a6x6zh3x
> 
> Here is the link to the surprise spin off :D https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960836 you can also search for 'Thank you' in my works. PLEASE COMMENT AND LEAVE KUDOS IF YOU WANT MORE OF THESE
> 
> And the shoes:
> 
> https://www.pinterest.com/pin/16114511155850788/?nic_v2=1a6x6zh3x


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really did not want to write another 4 or 5 chapters of just travel, so I appologize for how sort the journey is; but Anariel sees a Sindar elf for the first time, and comes to the Kingdom of Doriath!  
> Thank you to Meechi, or areyoutrueorfalse on tumblr for helping me flesh out ideas (and giving me great HC's) for the residence of Doriath residence! More of her ideas will be woven into the next few chapters!
> 
> Also, I have a little treat for you heathens as well, I have given myself a challenge to pair Anariel with different Feanorians throughout this work, and with this chapter comes a spin off story of some very juicy and NSFW Celegorm/Anariel. I will share the link at the end of the chapter!

It was planned out that all of the Feanorians would be departing from Himring around the same time, though Caranthir was the first to leave about a week prior to the others. Anariel missed him already, but would not admit it, but he had business to attend to with the naugrim of the area that could not be held off. Maglor would follow Maedhros and Anariel for a little while until their paths diverged a few hours south and he made his way to his home. Celegorm, Curufin and Tyelpe would follow them west for another day or so before diverting to their lands in Aglon. Amrod and Amras wear heading directly west to Thargelion, they would have left with Caranthir, but they wanted a little more time to spend with Anariel. It was now fully spring, though the weather was still a bit cooler; the grass around the hill had begun to spring to life and the path down the hill was now clear enough to travel. 

“Have a safe trip Ana,” Amrod said, giving her a tight hug as they all prepared to depart, “be careful in Doriath those woods are filled with strange magic.”

Anariel embraced him fondly and nodded, “I will write to you when we get there and then when we return back to Himring.”

Amras took his turn next, holding her just as firmly, “we will miss you, but promise to visit! Perhaps we could steal you away from hanno for a week or so later this summer for a hunting trip.”

“I think that would be great.” she smiled at him and kissed his cheek, Amras was the softer of the twins, in fact, the softest of all the brothers, and she loved that about him, “don’t get into any trouble, okay?”

“We will try!” they said in unison.

Anariel watched as they rode off in the distance from the bottom of Himring’s hill, they waved one last time before going over the horizon. “Come along now, we have to get going before the sun is too high,” Maedhros gently pulled her towards where the horses waited, “would you like to ride in the wagon or on Ruine?”

She thought for a moment on this; her memories of mounting Ruine were not pleasant, she could do without being made fun of again by the Feanorian brothers. However, if she were to ride in the wagon she would be teased as well. With a sigh she walked towards her mare, “I will ride the horse.”

Celegorm snickered, “need help?”

Anariel glared at him, coming the Ruine’s side, and secretly hoping that the mare would cooperate, so far there was no issues. “I do not. Thank you.”

He was already on his horse- they all were- and waiting for her. 

*****

It took the party two weeks to reach Doriath, which Anariel should have expected, since it took about the same amount of time to get from the battlefields to Himring and they were around the same distance. It was a rather uneventful trip this time around now that she was on the mend, or, at least her mental health had been patched up for the time being. She actually felt sad when she said goodbye to Celegorm and Curufin, as obnoxious and rude as they could be, she still had gotten to know them beyond that and had come to enjoy their company. Celegorm was quite charming when he wanted to be and was a good sparring partner, he gave good advice and made her smile often. Curufin had gifted her quite a few trinkets and despite his holier than thou outer personality, he could be kind at times. Of course she would miss Tyelpe the most, he had become a close friend of hers who she felt the most comfortable talking about her day to day issues, and spending quality alone time with that was never awkward or grew uncomfortable. 

She gave them each a firm hug and promised to visit with Maedhros when they could, thanking them for keeping her company throughout the winter time. She gave Huan a few kisses on the muzzle and nose, a few last good behind the ear scratches before ushering him to follow Celegorm. Anariel would likely miss Huan more than his owner for company; and thought to herself of asking Maedhros for a pet of her own when the timing was right. A dog would be lovely and cheerful company without so many of his brothers around to pester her; she thought it was a great idea.

As Anariel and Maedhros traveled farther south with the handful of party members brought along to help transport their necessities, the lands changed. From the beginning of the pass of Aglon they traveled southwest until they got to the river Esgalduin, crossing lower than the Arossiach which Maedhros insisted on avoiding. He stated something of giant spiders and foul creatures, and rather than letting her curiosity get the better of her, Anariel agreed not to explore despite the temptation, regular spiders are unpleasant and she would rather not have to worry about bigger ones. Their destination is Menegroth, a giant underground cavernous city that’s entrance is on the eastern side of Esgalduin. Between the point where they crossed the first river feeding into the Ford of Aros and that great city, was the forest of Doriath, commonly referred to as the Girdle of Melian. Maedhros again diverted the course of their path to follow the edge of the forest until they came to the banks of Esgalduin and followed that south. Again, Maedhros explained his thought process as wanting to avoid unnecessary delays by just cutting through the forest. Melian was maia and had set a strange mystic magic to encase the woodland realm of her kingdom. It was to keep evildoers and enemies out, and though the Noldor were not foes, he has heard that it could still be treacherous passing through the forest without a proper guide. So rather than getting lost they decided to follow the river.   
  


Amrod and Amras were right however; Doriath was strange to say the least. The air was laced with magic within the trees, Anariel did not divert far from the clearing that lined the river when she did not have too though it was tempting at times. There were nights she could have sworn she heard whispers in the woods, the mist in the air shimmered in an unnatural way that made her eyes play tricks on her, making her see faces she knew that she would never see again. But in the day the forest was enchanting, she felt light as a feather, almost high as if she had drunk just the right amount of wine. The animals of this forest were unafraid of the newcomers, and often she found herself being watched by woodland creatures. She almost wished Celegorm had been there- so when she tentatively approached a sweet looking doe, it would have understood not to run. Maedhros chuckled at her, watching the entire time as she tried her hand at being a forest nymph, clicking her tongue and making kissy noises at the deer who at first was rather unbothered by her, but a quick snap of a twig beneath his mates foot caused the doe to scamper off back into the trees.

By the third day within these woods she refused to leave Maedhros’ side, who was having a hard time as well ignoring the magic of the forest. She did not fear the dense woods as she probably should have, but felt too enticed to get lost within them, and she had to fight the temptation. It whispered to her of the rest she so desperately needed that would help her heal her woes and protection from the ones who hurt her. She wondered if it tempted Maedhros the way it tempted her, and from the way he set his jaw and his muscles tensed, she came to the conclusion it did. The thought was nice, though she knew that Maedhros would not rest despite the temptation, he had a fire in his heart much likes hers that sought to complete his oath, retrieve the silmarils and defeat Morgoth. Once she reminded herself of this, she was also reminded of her own hatred of the enemy, and her own resolve to find her friends. And one was residing within this forest, so very close, she wondered which it could be.

On the fourth day, a guide was there to greet them when they awoke, she had come down from the forest canopy, as if appearing from nowhere, her approach was silent, like the forest had muted her steps purposefully. Maedhros was alarmed, to say the least, and made to draw his weapon before properly seeing who this person was but when he did he calmed. Anariel based her reaction on her mate, but was rather curious about this stranger- they were quendi, that much she could tell- but not elda. Their eyes did not hold the same glow that those she had been around did nor the same wisdom, but a wildness and more animal-like softness not like the animalistic she had seen in Celegorms. It was as if they were an extension of the forest, not living within it but coexisting with it. If the Noldor were hard jewels and the fire of forges, then the inhabitants of Doriath, the Sindar, were bending tree branches and the flowing water of Esgalduin. 

The one that stood before them reminded Anariel of a willow, tall and fair with slim limbs and graceful movements, “greetings to you, honored guests.”

Her voice reminded Anariel of a finch, high in pitch but sweet in tone. She had a strong accent and spoke in Sindarin, suddenly Anariel was grateful she took the time to learn the language, “greetings, are you to be our guide to Menegroth?” Maedhros spoke with an authoritative tone, she silently marveled at how his voice changed when speaking to strangers and soldiers and when he spoke to her and his brothers.

“I am,” she was not offended by his timbre at all, “my name is Nellas, though I already know you.”

A strange way of saying they did not need to introduce themselves, Maedhros simply nodded, “very well, we shall finish packing our camp and follow your lead.”

They were forced to leave the wagon they had brought along behind, the party members that were not a vital part of Maedhros’ staff and guard stayed behind. It would only be a few days that they were away, and Nellas assured them that there would be others that would come and bring some supplies for those left behind. All that they took with them was baggage they could carry on their horses containing clothing and other necessities. Nellas remained on foot as she guided them through the forest which became dense, her steps continued to be silent under her bare feet. Anariel continued to watch her curiously; she was much different than the quendi that she had gotten used too, Caranthir had told her that there were cultural differences but she did not think she would be able to see them right away. Nellas, unlike Noldor females wore no shoes to protect her feet, even through thick foliage, and wore worn brown leather trousers rather than a dress with a plain green tunic that blended into her environment. The sleeves were cut short at the shoulder exposing knotting tattoos on her arms and was rather airy and flowy whereas the females in Himring at least stuck to thicker fabrics, even as spring began to warm. Perhaps the Sindar were more libral than their Noldor counterparts. 

The forest was on the surface, similar to any that Anariel had visited in the past, though filled with more life than she had imagined. The ground was covered in grass, moss and ferns, it would be quite easy to get lost in the maze of trees surrounding them if they were to divert from the narrow path they were guided down. The canopy of leaves above was thick, though small rays of sun still shone through to allow the greenery below a chance to grow. A psychedelic pattern of different shades of green and shapes of leaves danced in the cool breeze that rustled the treetops. Groans of branches bending and dancing filled the air along with the chorus of birds chirping, squirrels and chipmunks chattering and other forest creatures going about their business. Even from a distance they could hear Esgalduin’s waters in the background of it all, and as they came closer to their destination, the sound of water grew louder again.

They were not too far from the river’s banks, perhaps an hour’s walk away when they came to the entrance to Menegroth. A huge rift in the land came into view- at least fifty yards wide and leading farther both east and west than what Anariel could see; a river cutting the gorge- a smaller limb of Esgalduin that ran more wild and swift with the jagged cut of stones. A single bridge spanned the gorge and led to a door ten times as large as that leading into Himring, made of ancient stone and carved with images of the forest, with hidden animals such as elk, nightingales and cougars. Anariel was awestruck by its magnificence and how something so grand also managed to blend so well into its surroundings. The door was on the side of a hill, with this portion being a sheer cliff wall that blended into the steep hill and greenery as if from any other direction it would not be noticeable. Trees had been grown tall around that door to further hide it from view, and vines climbed the walls around the door and on the edge of the hill between the sheer cliff and the gorge a small path that could not have been more than ten feet. This city would not be easily found, and even if it was, it would be nearly impossible to infiltrate. The single bridge leading to the city gates was made of the same stone as the door, wide enough to allow possibly three wagons to pass side by side, though the arches holding it up were made of stone too, they were precariously thin, as if they would be easy to break in case the bridge needed to be demolished. 

When they crossed the bridge, several soldiers were lined along it in armor reminiscent of the leaves dancing in the trees, faces stern and hard as any soldier she had seen but with the same animal-like softness Nellas held, and no ethereal glow circling their iris. She briefly wondered if the show of arms was just that, a show, or if the city entrance was always so guarded. Would it even need to be guarded so heavily when it is so well hidden? Her apprehension began to grow; she had not liked unfamiliar places, and though Angband was so drastically different then Menegroth, she could not help but to think of how closed off it would seem being completely underground. Would she have a way to escape if she needed to? How small would the cavernous city be? She brushed her fea against Maedhros curiously, he had hardened himself to appear like the strong Noldor prince he was, and she followed suit, keeping her back straight and her face void of emotion. She was glad to feel his reassuring cool brush back, he was not afraid, and neither should she be.

As they neared the end of the bridge, the large doors opened without a sound, showing their thickness to be as wide as ten elves standing beside one another. They must have been magically enchanted to open and close, there was no way stone this heavy could be so easily moved. The locking mechanism was built into the thickness of the walls as well as on the interior. Anariel was at a loss for words when they opened far enough to where she could see into the city entrance itself; the grandness of it was nearly indescribable and she had never in her life seen such beauty and exquisiteness. The space was so vast it was as if she had not left the outside to begin with- she could have been easily deceived with how absolutely enormous the cavern was. Ceilings so high she had to crane her neck to see; held up with vast columns shaped like birch trees, stock, bough and leave which held lanterns, vines carved in and foiled with gold specs held a glowing yellow light in the scattered leaves illuminated the space along with giant chandeliers hanging from the ceiling shaped like tree canopies. When the doors closed behind them the cave had not dimmed at all. Birds still danced in the carved branches of these pillars, singing sweet songs- nightingales- when their eyes met Anariels she could sense an intelligence far beyond what a normal animal should hold, much like Huan’s eyes.

They came to a halt in what looked to be the city center. The walls of the cavern were lined with stairways leading to various buildings hewn into the walls themselves, some others standing freely within the floors of the caves. The city was bustling with movement- so much more than anything Anariel had even seen, this made Himring seem like a back water village in comparison. At the city center was a large fountain which was made of a fine shining silver, keeping the water pure, at its center was a monument depicting various creatures that were so realistic they seemed to hold life. Standing among the creatures of stone and the natural and real foliage that had been grown in that monument were two figures staring deeply into one another's eyes. Their faces holding such reverence and an abundance of love it was almost as if Anariel were watching a private moment meant only for the lovers. Beauty beyond comparison in the face of the female which Anariel was automatically able to place as non quendi- she was unsure as to what it was, because the form was so much like one- but there was an etherealness that she had only seen one other place before. It made her heart race. The male was strikingly handsome as well, and with stern features that were practically mismatched to his worshipful gaze. But in a way, it made the statue more lifelike to see such emotion on a face she could tell would normally be void. 

“Our King and Queen,” Nellas startled her from her viewing, coming to stand beside her as Maedhros handed their horses and baggage off to handlers and servants that had come to greet them, “Elu Thingol the King of Doriath and Lord of Beleriand and his Maia Queen Melian.”

Anariel’s stare broke from the statues to Nellas who smiled fondly, “they are very beautiful.” She knew it sounded awkward, but she really did not have words beyond that.

Nellas did not seem to mind, she chuckled, “wait until you see their daughter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the link to the spicy one shot I promised at the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958214  
> If you want to just look for it in my works it is titled Morning Light


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anariel meets the rest of the line of Finarfin, Artanis is oddly intimidating

Anariel and Maedhros continued to follow Nellas, who would turn out to be their guide through their entire stay. If it were not for her awe of her surroundings, Anariel would have let the feeling of so many eyes watching her make her more anxious. As they passed through the city center at the entrance of the cave, the air seemed to quiet as the residence of Menegroth took notice of the new comers. Maedhros with his tall stature and intimidating gate (not to mention his red hair) stood out from the other males within the crowd, and Anariel was in no way similar to either Eldar or Sindar with her ears that were more pointed and the differentness of her that was caused by Morgoth. They also dressed differently to the point it was noticeable, darker clothing with thicker fabrics, that held more embroidery and though neither Maedhros nor Anariel cared for too much jewelry even the simple trinkets they wore were out of place. The Sindar dressed as if they wanted to camouflage into the forest, even when they were indoors, with greens that matched the leaves and foliage outside the cave. Their clothing was light and flowy, moving as they moved without much designs beyond leaf-like patterns, and although they wore jewelry it was mostly carved for from wood. Many had gauged ears and tattoos like Nellas that were visible through tunics cut off at the shoulder.

As they left the large entrance, the cave floor began to split into roads and pathways leading to different parts of the cavern system, Nellas led them down a larger one that acted as a bridge as the cave dived down beneath. The entrance was nothing compared to the cavern it led into, there were no words to describe her astonishment at the size of it. Anariel did not dare to look down completely in fear of falling, and she could feel Maedhros had the same trepidation, but below the bridge they walked across were several more that made a path this way and that to different large structures within the system or to one of the cave walls were the path would continue. Still with all of the space around them, the cave did not darken, along the walls of the caves, there were the same birch trees carved into their sides, branches reaching out with that golden light. From the ceiling of the cave hung large chandeliers lit with the same magical light, along with a system of ropes and pulleys that moved large objects to and fro. It was truly an amazing and complex system. The path they were on continued straight to a large hill within the cave that was carved into a palace of sorts again, like nothing Anariel had ever seen. It was carved from the hill itself that shot up from the cave floor, and the largest structure within the colossal cavern. Moss and foliage grew on the side of the hill, vines creeping up the sides that little lights danced around within- fireflies. The windows were arched and held the same branch like design as the arches met, some holding light, others without. There were some walkways between areas of the palace lined with tree-pillars with glowing golden vines lighting the way. At the entrance when they approached were two large pillars that held a door similar to the one outside the cave itself, carved with fleeting nightingales and one large elk, magnificent and regal that were eerily lifelike, Anariel felt as if they were watching her. 

“You will be staying in the palace in the guest quarters for the duration of your stay,” Nellas said with her wispy bird like voice, “but their Majesties insist that their home is your home and you are free to wander as you will and get your fill of our beautiful home.”

Maedhros simply nodded, “and when will be granted an audience with their Majesties?”

“They intend to greet you when you have settled from your travels, perhaps before supper is served?”

Maedhros made a noise of agreement, “that would suit us well, I think,” he turned to Anariel with a softer gaze, though in no way let too much emotion show, “would you be up to this?”

She agreed, beginning to wonder whether tonight would be the night that she finally was reunited with her friend. She still did not know which one it was, but she was eager to learn. Almost so much so that she did not think it was possible for her to settle down enough to wait. But Maedhros soothed her through their bond, trying to grant her some of his own patience as they were led into the grandeur of the palace to their quarters. Throughout the palace Anariel never saw one thing out of place, or a speck of dust, the whole place was beautiful and spotless. Again, she felt eyes on her wherever they walked, but she was unsure as to whether it was the passing servants or the carvings of lifelike animals on the walls that seemed to move of their own accord. They began to pass large tapestries as well, Anariel wished to view them, but supposed they would have time for that later. She was enamoured with their beauty, again, too lifelike to not hold some sort of magic within, but Nellas continued to walk, and Maedhros ushered her forward. 

When they finally came to the guest suites, Anariel’s face lit up at who waited in the large fourier, “Finrod!” It took all of her control not to run to him in that moment, because he was surrounded by several others- too close in looks not to be the siblings she was told about.

He smiled his same kind smile, his eyes soft and warm, “Pia Nare, welcome.”

She couldn’t help herself, with a wide grin and giggles she walked briskly forward, her mind brushing his in remembrance and his did the same as he opened his arms, “I missed you so much!”

He chuckled and held her close, expressing his fondness, though she felt some surprise from him too when he felt another part of her mind- the part that was now connected with Maedhros. _Oh, the two of you finally allowed fate to work it’s course, eh?_ His eyes twinkled with amusement as he let her go again.

_She wore me down, the minx is hard to resist for months on end._ Maedhros’ voice echoed in her head as Finrod’s mind still mingled in hers. It was... an interesting occurrence.

Anariel smirked and turned back to Maedhros, but the next one to speak was neither of them, nor Finrod, but the female standing beside him, “It is good to finally meet you, Anariel Lissanare, Alcarinque, the glorious flame.”

Anariel was in awe of the female standing before her, Feanaro’s spirit tickled at her mind, but for some reason he did not make a full appearance. She pushed his anxious spirit to her subconscious, it was almost as if this elf was in her mind, though she felt no other presence. Her eyes were wise, with the same silver glow of an Elda, and peered into her soul, and if to read Anariel’s own spirit. Her beauty was unlike any she had seen thus far, even compared to the statue of the Queen Melian in the city center, with radiant white-gold hair that cascaded down her back in waives. They held a glow that was so very familiar to Anariel, but also not, eerily reminiscent of the gems she once saw atop a certain villain's head...though much purer without the heaviness of his evil. She was tall- almost more so than her brothers that stood beside her. Anariel had gotten used to being shorter in stature than most male quendi, and less than average for females, but she was clost in height to Amras, the shortest of the Feanorians, maybe even taller. Her face was neither young, nor old, she would place her at 30 years maximum on her judgement of age, but Anariel knew she must have been hundreds perhaps thousands of years old, like Finrod and Maedhros. But the longer Anariel looked into her gaze, the more uncomfortable she got, feeling as if she was being judged prematurely, she wondered how Finrod and his sister could have such different but yet similar auras.

“Are you...Artanis?” Anariel still made herself smile, though unconsciously moved closer to her mate. “Finrod told me of you and your brothers when we were in camp.”

She smiled back kindly and nodded, “good things, I hope.”

“Of course,” Anariel let out a breathy chuckle, “though he told me of your radiance, I think he highly underestimated your beauty.”

“That is very kind of you, I see my cousin has found himself quite a beautiful mate with you.” 

Anariel flushed, “I-I…” well, it was not hidden knowledge they were together now...though she had not heard it put in such a way, at least outside of the Feanorians. “Thank you.”

Finrod cleared his throat and motioned to those standing beside him, “These are my brothers, Angarato known in the sindarin tongue as Angrod, his son, Artaresto or Orodreth, and my youngest brother, Aikanaro or Aegnor.”

Angrod had a stern face, to Anariel he looked wise, as did all of the line of Finarfin, but easy to anger, he had a fierceness in his eyes. His son had the same stern features and wisdom, but had a calmness about him his father was lacking. As for Aegnor, she could tell he was the youngest brother, something about him radiated youth as his name aptly suggested, he had a fiery spirit that she felt herself; though with less...psychological damage and rather than a burning heat, she felt a frigidness, like the burn of frostbite. She wondered if this was caused by them crossing the ice, also, if his spirits exuberance was what hers could have been like if perhaps she was not so damaged...She did not speak to him, but so far he was actually the favorite of Finrod’s siblings in her eyes. All of them held the same golden locks, though Artanis’ was more of a white gold and silver, and Finrod’s was a pure gold, Aegnor held a reddish tone almost ginger in certain strands and Angrod and his son were a softer gold though no less beautiful. Even their faces were very similar, the same handsome nose and strong jaw in the brothers, Artanis having a more feminine softness, and Angrod having a more heavy brow which contributed to his stern expression. Orodreth’s eyes were also brown rather than the grey of the others, Finrod and Artanis had striking blue eyes. Truly a beautiful family, fair and wise; though her heart favored the Feanorians purely because she had spent more time with them, she very briefly wondered what it would have been like for her if she followed Finrod.

“It is very nice to meet you all,” Anariel’s smile became more genuine as she made eye contact with all of them, “I hope we can get to know each other well during this visit.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE BEEN SO SO EXCITED FOR THIS PART YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW, THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD SINCE NEARLY THE BEGINING OF THE STORY!

Maedhros and Anariel were able to settle in their suit and rest for about two hours before they were summoned to meet with the king and queen. As much as they longed to hold one another in a way that had unfortunately not been granted to them in the two weeks they traveled, as soon as their bodies hit the mattress, they were dozing off. A nap had been a necessary setback in their pleasure. Anariel’s head was still in a slight daze as Finrod began talking adamantly about the structure of the caves and how genius it was in terms of fortification from the enemy and the magical enchantments surrounding the natural camouflage of the city. Maedhros had been listening to Artanis speak of some matter of the royal couple, possibly their temperaments so that he could get a better feel on how to approach them. Aegnor had joined in on the riveting conversation about the caves, only to find a way to speak to Anariel about her flames instead, and Angrod and Orodreth remained silent, watching the group from the back.

“I have to say I am impressed with your progress, Nare,” Finrod gave her a kind smile, filled with pride and tenderness. He must have been a good big brother, she could practically feel it, “you have made leaps and bounds of progress in your mental health, you are practically a new person all together.”

Her spirit lifted at the complement, a sense of pride bubbling up in herself, “t-thank you, I am truly grateful for all the help the Eldar have given me.”

“That the Feanorians have given you,” he corrected, “I can see now that it was a wise decision to go with them. They are a wild bunch, and I think that is just what you needed.”

“They definitely gave me a little...motivation to get better.” Anariel chuckled, “if only so that I could deal with their overly rambunctious spirits.”

“And there is something else that is weighing heavily on your mind,” Finrod said, rather perceptively. She had kept her general cheery attitude, despite her nerves.

“You already know what it is,” she replied, he was rather perceptive, “just tell me, please, which one is it?”

“You will find out soon enough.” Finrod still remained smiling, but for some reason it felt melancholic. 

They had reached the throne room, the large doors already opened, she could see they were fashioned in the same way as the city doors and the doors opening to the palace with a flock of nightingales flying through the tree tops and a large elk staring into you in the center. The Throne room was the largest room that Anariel had been in yet in the palace, keeping to the theme of birch trees for pillars that lined the way on the side of the room, reaching up to tangle branches in the ceiling. Birds carved from stone sat on top of the branches, some squirrels or chipmunks mixed in, if she looked carefully at the ‘roots’ of the tree she could see snakes, foxes and deer. several large chandeliers hung from the ceiling made of antlers of elk and deer, and the same glowing gold light illuminated the room. The floors were made of a beige marble, leading up to a set of stairs that swirled downward, holding silver fountains at their base that extended outwards a ways and along the railing of the dais above. Foliage grew in small garden beds along the back of the fountain resting against the ledge of the dais, the sound of trickling water was peaceful and harmonized with the sound of nightingales, which a few actually did fly above them from branch to branch- these ones undoubtedly alive. It was almost as if they were in the forest outside, Anariel was in awe of the beauty of this place, and wondered if she would ever see anything as lovely ever again.

Upon the dais, the king and queen were already waiting, and as soon as the thought of beauty came through her mind, she corrected herself- they were the perfect match to the majesty of their home. Both were tall and regal, with an ancient aura of wisdom and grace, it was hard for her to understand her own feelings; she was amazed at their grandeur but at the same time, felt a small amount of intimidation. She briefly thought back to the vision she had when first feeling the bond between her and Maedhros; of them sitting on thrones, crowns made of fire and the same air of regality. Anariel was glad she never let that fantasy get the best of her, now that she thought of it, she did not know if she wanted others to feel this level of...heaviness when meeting her. 

King Thingol was tall- even more so than Maedhros, she could tell with him simply sitting that he must have been at least eight feet tall. His name meant grey mantle, and it rang true, his long grey hair ran straight down his shoulders and was cut right above his waist. His face was sharp, with a pointed chin and high cheekbones, thick eyebrows set in a neutral expression. His eyes struck a chord with Anariel- though he was Sindar, they still held the same ethereal light of an Eldar, it made her curious.

As for his Queen Melian, she must have been the one giving Anariel the strange ‘feeling’. When her eyes set on the beauty of the queen, her breath caught in her throat and her heart began to pound. She felt a familiar presence within the queen, a likeness to something she had felt before, though she in no way held the same malice- the flaming eyes of Sauron flashed in her mind. The magic that this female emitted was kin to his, it was the source of all the magic within the realm of Doriath. Why the forest seemed to whisper to her, to call her to rest; how the golden lights of the birch-pillars managed to light the entire cave, and how the carved birds watched her every move- it was because of this being. 

Maedhros stepped beside her, his fea going to hers to grant reassurance and his mind touched hers to speak,  _ relax Melda, Melian is a Maia, like the one you are thinking of, but is not corrupt. You can trust she will bring you no harm. _

The dark haired queen smiled at her with a maternal comfort as if to agree with Maedhros, as if she could hear their conversation within her mind. Melian had an oval face, with eyes a dark grey, almost blue but like Thingol, they held the glow of one who has seen the light of the trees- almost more so- her lips were soft and plush and her raven hair fell in waves down her waist, farther than her husbands, tied with silver jewels that reminded Anariel of starlight in a dark sky. 

As they came before the dais, Anariel and Artanis curtsied and the males all bowed at the waist before the king and queen, “greetings to you, Noldor kin,” Thingol spoke, his voice a deep tenor, laced with ancient authority, “we are glad to see you accepted our invitation to visit our beloved city.”

“It is truly an honor to be welcomed into your great kingdom, your Majesty,” Maedhros placed his right arm over his chest and bowed his head slightly.

“As ruler of these lands,” there was an implied heavy reference to his words there, which Maedhros did not fail to pick up on, “I humbly thank your courage in the battle of Dagor Algareb that was fought in defense of all of Beleriand against the dark foe.”

Maedhros nodded curtly, it was never explained as to why the people of Doriath did not go to battle alongside the Noldor, but Anariel got the feeling that Thingol was quite content within his woodland realm and the Girdle Melian had erected to protect it. There was no need to fight a battle if the majority of your population was safe within a magical barrier. In fact, most of the Feanorian brothers saw this ‘Festival of Thanks’ to be a farce, Celegorm had gone on an hour long rant about it, calling the people of Doriath cowards and shaming them for hiding in their forest while the rest of the lands could have potentially been devastated. But Maedhros took the diplomatic route, stating that there was no reason for the King of Doriath to have ulterior motives and he simply wished to create better ties with a force that has proven itself to be strong enough to defend the lands- that it was a smart move of the King to make alliances, and they should follow suite.

“You have given my people plenty of land to abode, and we shall protect our new home,” Maedhros spoke, “there is nothing to thank us for.”

“We have also been curious to meet the Naur Aglareb (Sindarin for Glorious Flame) that torched the enemies forces so thoroughly.” Thingol’s eyes fell on Anariel, “though it seems you have tamed her from the wildfire I had heard of.”

“I have learned control, no one but myself can tame my wildfire.” Anariel spoke up for herself.

Thingol perked a brow at her brazen tone, “I see.”

The air grew stale with awkward silence for a moment before Melian spoke, “there is another like yourself who has learned to keep control.”

Her hand motioned to the side in a graceful movement and a doorway to the side of the dais where the king and queen entered the throne room opened. Anariels attention snapped to the dark crevice that grew larger until a figure made itself known, stepping through the doorway. It was him. Her knees nearly collapsed from below and her heart dropped to her stomach. She had spent a month wondering which of them it would be- and it was the one she both feared and desired most. His face was just as she remembered; handsome and square, though his skin was tanner than the last she saw of him- when they had both been kept from the rays of the sun. His eyes danced with his powers, but blue and glimmering like peaceful seas in an easy breeze, thick blonde hair- a darker gold than Finrod’s- tied in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, his hair was still rather short compared to elves. He held the same wildness and sharpness to his changed features as she did, like and unlike the quendi; his ears came to the same pointed upwards tip unlike the quendi who when relaxed, and their ears relatively lower. When he smiled at her- tried to open his mouth to speak- she saw his sharper teeth and pointed canines. 

Maedhros felt a shift in her energy when their eyes met, and managed to keep his concern from showing. Her emotions were everywhere, shock, worry, anxiety, hurt and a small flicker of hope. She was stuck in place, watching his reaction as to how to approach her friend- would he consider them still friends? After the time Melkor had forced her too… the times that she was caught doing that- they had not had the proper time or emotional levelness to have a proper conversation. Everyone in the room watched the interaction with keen interest, he must have told them his version of the story, the only one that would be on her side if an argument or fight did occur would be Maedhros- possible Finrod. She could only watch as he moved across the dias, his eyes never leaving hers as if he was in the same amount of shock. Did they tell him she would be coming? They must have, if they were allowing him freedom to do as he pleased within their kingdom they would have been polite enough to mention that he may run into her.

Maedhros tried to soothe her by wrapping his fea around her, enticing her timidness of her fire to grow more confident with his coaxing winds, but she was stale, blank, her focus solely on this newcomer. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Amelia.”

Anariel’s spell finally broke, and her feet carried her forward, a step or two first, but as he moved faster, so did she, “Adam.”

_ Adam _ . Maedhros’ brow furrowed, he remembered the name, and the memories that were tied to it. His mind flashed to the first time she had a nightmare in his arms- in the tent at the battle camp. She was terrified, and the name that fell from her lips was  _ Adam _ . Her terrifying memory she showed him of the water drowning out her fire- caused by  _ Adam _ . Maedhros was concerned, but knew better than to hold her back and did his best to remain calm and not grow defensive; he would refrain and watch her reactions. But he did not have to like it, he could almost guarantee her that later her emotions would slip and that Adam would again be the cause of her tears and emotional distress. But what is it that he called her?

Adam reached the bottom of the stairs of the dias and Anariel froze again, “ _ I-I...don’t...did you get my letter? _ ”

“ _ I...did.”  _

They spoke in their original tongue, to the confusion to all in the room, but none dared to interrupt the moment. Maedhros still kept tabs on Anariels aura, she had been doing well lately with her mental health. He did not want her to regress, and this would be the type of moment to bring it. He almost wished that it had been another within Doriath and silently cursed his messenger for not telling which of them it was so they had more time to prepare. Thingol was watching the interaction with keen interest, and Melian was using a fraction of her power to ease the tension in the room. The power of the maia was recognizable to all except to the two, but none fought it, seeing the necessity. Anariel and Adam were too invested in one another.

“ _ Why didn’t you respond to me?” _ Maedhros saw the worry in Anariel’s face, and the uncertainty in her friends. 

_ “I didn’t know what to say…”  _ he took a deep breath,  _ “I...I have had time to...think clearly these past few months.” _

_ “...and?” _

_ “I...I am so,  _ so  _ sorry.”  _ His face scrunched, tears lined his eyes but managed to stay put, but everyone could see he was distraught.  _ “I should have known better- I-I don’t know why...how I could possibly have thought that you would- and I was an ass...I am sorry, Amelia.” _

He said it again,  _ Amelia,  _ Maedhros questioned it’s meaning for a moment and then his understanding of languages kicked in, he had used it once when greeting her, and again at the end of the sentence...Amelia was her name- had  _ been _ her name. Before she adopted the epesse given to her by the eldar. He wondered why she had never told him this before...and why he had never asked. Anariel’s face turned too, her lower lip quivered and she swallowed. He wanted to interrupt, or at least understand what they were saying. It seemed as if the male was apologizing, a part of Maedhros did not want her to forgive him, but a stronger part of him knew that was petty and it would be best for them to make amends. 

Maedhros’ eyebrows shot up when she pulled Adam into her arms, and started shaking with the force of her cries, “ _ I was afraid you would still hate me.” _

A small pange of jealousy sprang forth in Maedhros, he did not know this male- and he did not particularly care for the things that he had heard from Anariel and what he had witnessed in her memories. But again, he refrained from reacting, judging that the reunion was going well enough not to need one. 

“ _ I was afraid that you would hate me for the way I judged you-”  _ Adam’s arms wrapped around her and held her close _ , “that place- it poisoned my mind. We weren’t thinking clearly. I know now...now that you had your reasons- but I was so jealous and disgusted-.” _

_ “I don’t want to think about that.”  _ Anariel whispered, _ “I am just so happy to see you- how have they been treating you here? Are you safe? Happy?” _

_ “I should be asking you the same thing,” _ Adam pulled away from her and smiled at her with a tear stained face,  _ “I have heard things about the Noldor, specifically the Feanorians...are you...safe?” _

Anariel removed herself from her friend, stepping back a respectable distance,  _ “of course, they’d be burnt to a crisp if they weren’t treating me right. I am called Anariel now, Anariel Lissanare, apparently the saw fit to give me a few names.” _

_ “Here they call you Naur Aglareb, I am Aegros, it means piercing rain. I...I sort of used Esgailduin in a certain way to protect myself and, well…”  _ he chuckled.

_ “Aegros, it sounds like a strong name.” _

_ “I like it.” _

“It is polite to speak in Sindarin in front of the King of Doriath,” Thingol interrupted when he grew tired of being unable to understand the dramatic unfolding before him, catching them both off guard. 

“I apologize, your Highness,” Aegros spoke, his tone changing to be more courteous that the relaxed it had been before, “we just got...caught up in the moment.”

“It is understandable,” Melian nodded, with a kind smile, “do introduce yourself to your friends mate as well, it seems he is rather curious.”

Aegros looked stunned, to say the least, and looked at Anariel and then to the one person he did not know in the room. “Mate?”

“Mate,” Maedhros clarified, “I am Maedhros Feanorion, the one who has been helping  _ Anariel  _ heal.”

“It is nice to meet you- Maedhros.” Aegros almost seemed to deflate, his tone turned reserved.

Anariel did not know how much more of this interaction she could honestly take- the past five minutes had been overwhelming and she was ready for it all to be over. Without much more of a thought, she made her way back to Maedhros, letting his fea wrap around her as it had been trying for the past few minutes. Her fire twisted around his seeking comfort and finding it, as well as hesitance...uncertainty. She knew Maedhros did not like the reunion he just saw, though she felt more worry for her than jealousy, there was still a hint of it that he was trying to hide. But still when she came to stand next to him, she stood with her head high and with pride, because he was her mate- he loved and accepted every bit of her and everything she and her body went through. And she loved him just the same, and she expressed that in the way she looked at him and let her wildfire dance, just for him within his air, and saw his expression lighten as well in understanding. Anariel was not Amelia anymore, and Anariel’s heart belonged to him, as his was for her. 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note for sexual content and heavy feelings

Anariel was honestly surprised that she could make it through the dinner they were ushered into after that dramatic meeting. The king and queen did not deem the Finwean’s worthy of joining for dinner, and they remained behind as the others and Aegros were led to the dining hall in the guest’s wing of the palace. Aegros had only learned Sindarin, finding the same ease in understanding as she did, though it took him longer and he was still learning. Occasionally he would lose track of his words and he spoke the word in his native language so that Anariel could help correct him, or Finrod would speak up in assistance. She had Feanor’s help in learning, as for Feanor he stayed oddly silent through the entire encounter. He had been growing less pronounced within her as time went on from her arrival in Himring, though she could not quite understand why, it was as if he was fading from her mind. Perhaps it was due to how her mind had been healing, though it could have also been due to the fact it was awkward to stick around her consciousness when she was getting laid by his son.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Aegros seemed to get over Maedhros and Anariel being an official couple and went back into his cheery demeanor she remembered of him. He was able to put on a much better mask than she felt she was capable of- even with Maedhros giving her his silent support. The guilty thought came into her head before she had time to stop it, but she realized that though what Aegros had went through in Angband with her, the starvation, transformation, torture, forced training and lack of anything good really. Anariel had gone through a few additional things that robbed her spirit of the cheeriness it once had. She wondered if Aegros ever woke up in the night screaming in fear that their old master would drag him back to Angband again- into his bed. If now that Anariel had seemingly forgiven him for all of his mistrust and prejudice against her during that dark time, that he thought it would all be fine now and they could go back to being friends as they were before. She saw that little light of hope in his eyes for the split second before Melian announced her love for Maedhros- saw how it faded. Whatever budding romance that had been between them before this started- before they’re lives had been completely altered was gone. It had been gone the moment Melkor looked at her with such hunger. Since the first night Mairon had dragged her to his masters private rooms. 

The dinner had been mostly vegetarian, the people of Doriath had a heavy plant based diet, secretly Anariel was thankful that she had ended up with the Feanorians who were more than happy to have meat in their diet. She remained quiet for most of the meal, after cleaning her tears away, she stayed close to Maedhros and felt herself slowly slipping down in mood. She had been so excited, and nervous, and generally confused in her feelings and it had taken a lot out of her. Aegros had continued to try and engage her in conversation as the meal continued, not able- or perhaps not willing- to see her signs of illease. 

“Amelia, I heard of your prowess in battle,” Aegros attempted to speak with her again, “I knew you were powerful- but never thought you could exterminate nearly half an army.”

“It’s Anariel now, Aegros.” Anariel corrected, trying to remain polite, this was the second time she had done so. She knew Maedhros was becoming defensive as well, but did his best to hide it. She also did not care to glorify the actions she took while so desperate to escape, “and I did not do it for the recognition of it, I was just trying to escape.”

“Ah, sorry,” he chuckled nervously, “it’s difficult getting used to the name change- I’ve known you as Amelia for so long, sometimes I forget I’m Aegros now-”

“You should have enough respect for her after what she did for you to use her preferred name.” Maedhros spoke sharply, “she is no longer the person you once knew, you would be better to get to know her as a new person.”

Aegros gave Maedhros a look that Anariel could not quite place the emotion of, jealousy, perhaps? As if he expected her to be his again when they reunited- he was hopelessly wrong. But Maedhros’ returned it with a firm look, he would not back down, Aegros diverted his eyes, taking a drink of his wine and brushed off his bitterness, but not before giving Anariel a look that spoke to her, as if to say, _I see you have traded in your master for a guard dog._ She and Aegros continued to make small talk for another half hour, asking each other about their life now, and listening as Maedhros told his cousins of life in Himring and future plans for defense of the northern borders. But soon she grew weary and her emotional strength was fading, luckily dinner was ending, and it would not be too impolite to skip dessert.

Anariel could no longer will herself to speak after a glass of wine soured in her stomach. She let Maedhros play the diplomat that he was and waited until all conversations were done and politely ended to brush against Maedhros’ mind. _Can we leave now?_

_Thank goodness, I was about to ask you the same thing._ Maedhros hand squeezed her reassuringly, she always sat on his left, for this reason. “My Apologies, but Anariel and I would like to retire early tonight.” 

He set wiped his lips after taking a last drink of wine and stood, gently pulling out Anariel’s chair and guiding her up, “it has been a long journey and exciting day,” she did her best to smile, “it was so very nice to meet all of you…” her eyes darted to Aegros who smiled at her reassuringly, though the effect of which held no weight, “and to finally see you safe again.”

“Rest well then,” Finrod said sincerely, “tomorrow is yet another exciting day, with the festivities that evening.”

Maedhros nodded politely at his cousin and paid no mind to Aegros as he and Anariel left the dining hall and made their way down the walkways back to the main lobby of the guest wing. Finally alone with one another after what felt like an overly long night, Anariel did not really have the heart to speak, she knew that a break down was imminent and was only hoping that they could make it across the threshold of their room before it happened. She held Maedhros hand in silence as they walked, he had some insecurities of his own after tonight, though his logical mind knew that they were nonsense a small voice in his head kept nagging him about it. He did not like the interaction between Aegros and Anariel- the male acted with too much ease and familiarity- especially after what Anariel had been through and what he had played a part in doing to her. He did not understand, did she forgive him for this? Of course, it was her own choice, but it was not one he agreed with. 

The lobby was like a large sitting room, with a fireplace, and plenty of lounging space, and in four different directions it was divided off. The directions from which they came led to the main palace halls as well as one of the dining halls meant for guests when not attending meals with the king and queen. The other three held several bedrooms each and studies for the guests as well, and to the entrance of each of these halls, lined the same birch-pillars with lights and one pillar on each side every few yards down. Anariel and Maedhros were kept at the end of the first hall, and by the time they reached their rooms, her knees were about to give out on her; as soon as the door closed with a gentle click of the lock, she was on the floor. Sobs wracked her body and the tears that she had been holding in ran down her cheeks in streams, immense heat escaped her body and in a flash, her whole being was surrounded by flames. The dress she had worn to meet the king and queen stood no chance and turned to embers quickly. 

Maedhros created a bubble around them; to protect anything that was not made of the stone of the palace from catching fire while Anariel let out her emotions. He knew that did not go as well as intended, she had a way of pretending to be fine around others, he could not fault her, he did the same. But it did not leave him any less concerned. He kneeled in front of her, shushing her and offering reassurance, but was not able to come closer without hurting himself unless she allowed it. Her sobs grew heartachingly loud and her whimpers nearly broke his heart. He wished that he had insisted on finding out who it was that would be here so he could have better prepared her for this moment and potentially given her a way out. Why hadn’t Finrod said anything about this? What story did that male give the king and queen, give his cousins? He saw the way Galadriel judged his Are, she had always been pretentious and prudish. What lies was Aegros told them, or sob stories perhaps about his soiled almost lover? He knew how harshly he had judged Anariel for doing what she needed to do to save them- Maedhros had heard her stories and seen her memories that she shared with him. Seen the disgust with his own eyes through her.

“Anariel,” he murmured, patiently waiting for her to welcome his touch, “my love?”

She was shaking, curled up in a ball on her knees, she couldn’t look at him- memories flooded her mind of Adam, his reaction to what she had done. He may say that he is sorry and holds no judgement- but she knew better. She remembered how strongly he felt on what she did- his reaction when he saw her. And the flash of some emotion in his eyes when he heard Melian’s statement, was it hurt? Or was it more of his prejudice? She was not able to comprehend it properly at this time. She hated how he kept reverting to calling her by her old name- _Amelia-_ she was not Amelia anymore. Amelia was dead. Anariel had replaced her, and had healed the fractured psyche that was left behind after Amelia’s escape. Amelia was the weak girl who was starved half to death, forced to watch her friends die and then changed irrevocably by an evil so great that even the Gods of this land were afraid to face him. Amelia was the scared little girl who let him do what he did to her simply because he was like a moth to a flame and desired her fire so much and she was the only pure flame that he could control. Anariel was stronger, and could control her fire, she would not let anyone hurt her like that again. Anariel was Maedhros’ mate, she belonged to him, and _wanted_ to belong to him because she knew that he had no desire to control her, and loved her.

Her flames began to subside slowly, allowing her mate closer, “I’m sorry.” she whimpered, looking up to him as if she were a frightened fawn, “I just got so overwhelmed- I don’t understand, I wanted him to forgive me- and he says he does but I can still feel his judgement-”

Maedhros shushed her gently, ushering her to crawl into his arms and on his lap, “my sweet Are, you do not have to apologize for your emotions,” he comforted her, knowing too well her longing to be forgiven for something that was out of her control. He felt the same way upon being rescued by Fingon- though he now knew Fingon’s forgiveness was true...He could still sense the small amount of judgement Aegros had. It made him bitter, he also did not care at all for how despite this judgement he still gave Anariel longing looks when he thought no one was paying attention. Of course, his longing was not for Anariel, but for Amelia.

Anariel could feel his fea, for as much as he tried to repress it, they were connected, and it was easy to tell. Fingon had always been able to read him this well, perhaps this was why Maedhros chose to separate from him, because at that time he was afraid of what Fingon would see, “I am not _her_ anymore.” Anariel made that clear, “and whatever brief… thing… that had once been between her and Adam is history I would rather not remember.”

“You are _my_ Anariel,” Maedhros clarified, holding her closely, rubbing her back in a soothing manner, “ _My_ Are, _my_ mate.”

“I am.” she said assuringly, feeling the resoluteness of it, the comfort it offered. She cast her gaze up to his face, moving her hands to cup his cheeks. His ears were downcast in his worry for her, her fingers went to rub the soft skin behind them, knowing how sensitive that space was, wishing to offer him the same reassurance he had given her. She was his completely and she was determined to show him that, and in return bolster her own sense of belonging and who she was. She was relieved when she tentatively kissed him, his kiss in return was full of resolve and the strength she needed to wash away the feelings she had been left with after that meeting.

Maedhros’ hands began to wander her body as the kiss grew more intense, he pulled her onto his lap with a little more roughness than usual, pulling her legs to straddle his waist. His prosthetic hand held her in place and the other weaved into her hair, holding the base of her skull firmly so he could kiss her as he desired. His mouth was demanding and insistent on hers, hungry for the honey taste of her tongue and to claim every inch of her. Anariels hands pulled at his clothing demanding they come off so that he was as open to her as she was; her dress was in ashes below them so it was only fair that his clothing came off quickly. It had been two weeks since the last time they were able to touch one another in such an intimate way. Maedhros refused to let her get too frisky when they were in their tents while traveling, the closest she got was a quickie in a glade near Aglon, but that was not enough for her. And now after what had happened that night she was desperate to be claimed by him, just as he wanted so badly to do to her. Anytime her emotions ran this high, they found that the perfect outlet for them was sex, a great method for comfort and validation between them.

“Anariel,” Maedhros groaned as she grinded against him, he peeled off his layers of outer robe, vest and tunic as quickly as he could while trying to remain touching her, “let me get you to the bed at least-”

She whined, feeling how desperate he was through his trousers and continued to stimulate herself against him, “I don’t fucking care where you take me at this point Maitimo.” 

He licked and sucked at her neck, in all the spots he knew she liked, not caring in the least if he left marks- actually desiring to leave them purposefully. “Desperate for me, Melda?”

“I want you in me,” she showed her resolve in burning the ties of his pants off in an effort to free his straining erection, “show me who I belong too.”

Maedhros growled, his prosthetic still on her back and he forced her backwards and down as his left hand steadied him on the ground, her hands skillfully tugged down the waistline of his trousers and freed his cock, wasting no time in jacking him off. Her hand twisted around his shaft, pulling another groan from him, he had the sense to check her first; switching his supporting hand for his prosthetic and roughly moving his left between her legs, forcing his fingers into her tight cunt, and feeling how wet she was. She was not being patient whatsoever, she spread her legs wide and moaned at the feeling of his fingers but quickly swatted them out of the way. She pulled him closer with her legs hooked around him and grinding her wet cunt on his length, making him take a sharp breath.

“It’s going to hurt-”

“Good.” she prepared herself, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a sloppy and quick kiss, “don’t hold back for my sake.”

Anariel watched his pupils dilate and the sense left his body with her words, with her permission granted he wasted no more time and guided himself into her. They both held their breath, for a second- but he took no mercy. He sheathed himself within her quickly, vocalizing much louder than he normally would- but she loved it. The sting of it, as if branding her with his cock, and he did not go slow, as soon as he was in her, he started a rough and vigorous pace, causing her to yelp, but she dug her nails into his shoulders, grinding her teeth to handle the pain of his stretch which granted her the assurance she craved- yes she was his. Her body was uncomfortable for the first minute or two as it was stretched to accommodate him without their normal foreplay, but her head was swimming in positive emotions that were beginning to drown out the torrent of negative ones she was feeling ten minutes prior. Her eyes still held tears, but the emotions behind them were different; she saw the love in Maedhros’ eyes as he watched her reactions, for as ‘rough’ as he was being, he still tried to gauge her reactions. He could have been a lot less careful and she knew this; he was an intimidatingly strong male but he did not use that strength against her. Maedhros was going fast, but kept his thrusts shallow- with his entire length he could hit her cervix which could be a pleasant experience- but not when she was still warming up. 

Anariel whimpered and felt her eyes begin to water again, “Are, what’s wrong?” Maedhros’ face turned concerned, and his thrusts slowed, it wasn’t a totally uncommon occurrence for her to cry during sex but he knew she was already sensitive in a negative sense- as much as he wished to claim her, he did not want to hurt her, “do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head and tried unsuccessfully to choke back her sobs, “n-no, no please don’t- I love you so much- Maitimo.”

“Are,” he stopped completely and kissed her cheeks, “I love you too, tell me why you are crying, my love.”

She pushed some of his hair out of his face and pulled him to her, he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes for a moment, cherishing the tenderness of the moment, “because I have never felt so loved by anyone before,” Anariel smiled, she could feel his soul mingling with hers, and it was indescribable, “and even when I tell you to do as you want with me- you still have my comfort in mind.”

He chuckled, “ah, so long as they are happy tears,” he kissed her nose, “it is because of how much I love you that I keep your comfort in mind, why would I ever hurt the one I cherish?”

Maedhros rolled his hips against her again and watched the embers in her eyes change with her emotions, “now, do you want me to continue?” he murmurs against her lips, licking them sensually, “showing you how you are mine, and only mine?”

Anariel whined, “please, I don’t want to think about anything else.”

His pace picked up again, he stayed close to her, kissing her deeply, his forearm keeping his weight up and his hand tangled in her hair. His prosthetic had gone to support one of her legs around his waist as his thrusts began to grow more full, encouraged by the moans she made he fully enveloped himself in her tight passage as he went in and back out. Maedhros eagerly moved faster, encouraged by her pleas and the lewd sounds now echoing within the room, he could feel the build of their emotions together through their bond as all other thoughts but their bliss began to fade from their minds. He enjoyed the control he had in this moment, in making her feel good, and himself, with his body over hers, she looked so small, and safe beneath him. He was the one bringing her pleasure, it was his name falling from her lips, him that she looked at with such adoration and trust, and he had been the one to help her heal and grow stronger as Anariel, and leave the broken Amelia behind. 

Maedhros kissed her once more, stealing her breath with his passion, before he kneeled and got into a new position, pulling her legs to rest on his shoulders and holding her pelvis at an upward angle. Anariel’s pitch got higher as he was able to hit her g spot with every thrust now, having the right angle necessary. He watched her eyes roll back and felt her tighten around him, his grip tightened, it was possible that she would have a few bruises left tomorrow, he could see a few marks on her neck forming from his mouth earlier. His chest swelled with pride at the marking, he wanted everyone to know that she was his, a selfish part of him wanted Aegros specifically to know- and he was pretty sure that Anariel would not mind this. Encouraged by the thought of marking her, of claiming her so thoroughly, his hips moved as they did before, drumming into her mercilessly to where all she could do was moan and cry for him.   
  
“Does it feel good, Melda?” Maedhros said in a deep voice, his fingers tightened on her ass as he held her, her ankles were hooked around his neck. 

He could see that she was losing track of thought, that he had driven her to the point of ecstasy that words could no longer form, but he continued to speak, as if to affirm to himself how completely she belonged to him, “Anariel,” he said her name with reverence as a sense of gratification buzzed in his head, “my love, my beloved,” he continued to support her with his right hand, his fea having enough control over it to give him a good grip, his flesh hand looped around her leg so his fingers could circle her clit. He felt her legs begin to twitch and her cunt growing tighter and spasming as her orgasm approached, he was close too- he was going to finish inside her- a more final way of marking her as his, even if the physical evidence of which did not last as long as the bruises on her legs or the hickies on her neck, the scent would linger. If Aegros was built like Anariel was and his senses were as sharp, he would smell Maedhros’ claim on her clearly in the morning. He would be sure of that.

Maedhros made his thoughts be known- and he knew that Anariel wanted and needed to hear it as well, “you’re mine, Anariel,” he panted, watching her squirm beneath him, all she could do was fist her hand in her hair, the other rubbed his forearm as he played with her clit, “ _mine_ ,” he reiterated. 

She nodded vigorously, “yours, Mai-Maitimo- _oh_ , yes! _Yes_ , yours! A-always!”

He smiled at her lovingly, his eyes darkened with overwhelming lust and primal possession, “I know that,” he assured, she was going to cum, he could feel it, her body stiffened but he knew better than to stop. He was close behind, he couldn’t take how hot and wet she was around him, how tight her silken cunt was, he growled as he spoke, “I’m going to make sure everyone else knows as well.” 

“ _Yes_!” Her back arched as she came, losing her breath as endorphins flooded her mind and stars danced across her vision, nearly blacking out with the intensity of it. Anariel loved the feeling of Maedhros coming inside her, it felt gratifying, as if a physical representation of how she made him feel and his ownership over her body, soul and heart. She felt him pulsing within her, the force of it hitting her and making her tingle with the shock from her own sensitivity. “Maitimo!” 

“Anariel!” His thrusts became erratic and slowed as he came, becoming shallow and remaining deep within her, as if staking his claim to her more thoroughly this way. He didn’t stop, riding out the waves of his climax and draining every ounce of his seed within her. “Are, _mine_ , you...you are mine, my Anariel.”

She panted, nodding her head in agreement, whimpering and muttering gibberish that he understood as positive agreements in his assertions, “yours,” she held out her arms to him, beckoning him to her, which he obliged, slowly putting her legs back down and crawling over her again, letting her hold him tightly as he pressed kisses into her skin, “yours.”

After a minute of catching his breath, Maedhros scooped her up in his arms and stood on shaky legs, it was difficult to move between his nearly liquified muscles and trousers halfway down his legs, but he made it to the bed. He smiled and chuckled as she whined when he pulled out of her, laying her down on the plush mattress that still had ruffled blankets from their nap earlier before meeting the king and queen. She made ‘gimme’ hands again, the usual sign she made of wanting him closer, but she would have to wait another moment or so while he removed the rest of his clothing, evening out the playing field. Anariel pressed herself up with her arms supporting her, watching him kick off his boots and shimmy out of his trousers. The ties of which were no longer usable and he would have to find another cord of leather to hold them together due to her earlier impatience.

“Again.” she licked her lips, moving again to sit on her knees.

He laughed, “insatiable.” Though Maedhros found it hard to deny her anything she really wanted, and his body was up for the challenge- literally, “you are quickly turning into a hedonist my dear.”

Maedhros kept himself just out of her reach, and he saw her frustration in the way her brow furrowed, “it’s your fault.”

He raised a brow, reaching back to his hair, using the bottoms strands to loop around and create a makeshift hold in a low ponytail, “my fault? I do believe it was you who decided to pursue me so thoroughly.”

“Yes, but you were the one who was all broody and enticing to begin with.” she had enough of his distance and moved to the end of the bed, leaning forward to grab his arms and pull him forward.

“Ha! I hardly see how broody _can_ be enticing.” He didn’t resist her.

“I have a type, what can I say?” she smiled wolfishly, “tall, strong, handsome, you check all the boxes. The brooding personality is just a lovely bonus.”

“Ah, the real reason my brothers didn’t have a chance then?” he kissed her cheeks and down to the sensitive spot below her ear, “they weren’t sulking enough?”

“Mhmm,” she pulled him further onto the bed, feeling the mattress divot as his weight was pressed on it, “that’s exactly it- I needed someone who could match my theatrics in melancholic meditation.”

Maedhros laughed heartily and broke away from her skin to gaze upon her face, his eyes dancing with delight and hers shining with a newly budding joy. He was glad to see that her mood had so drastically changed from when they had entered the room, and again, felt pride that he was the reason for this, “I will gladly join your theatrics any day, my Are.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HE'S SO CLOSE!!!
> 
> Maedhros and Anariel are finally in a better mood, Artanis is a little stuck up, Aegnor is not as mature as I thought he would be, and Maedhros has anxiety

Maedhros did not intend to stay in Doriath very long, he only wished to stay long enough to assure Thingol and Melian that allowing the Noldor to live in Beleriand was a good and wise decision. This included accepting their offer of hospitality by attending the ‘festival’ that they had intended to thank the Noldor for defending their lands. Anariel and Maedhros had not been the only ones to be invited to Menegroth- envoy’s from Fingolfin’s lands were invited as well in the High Kings stead. Of course Fingolfin was too busy to attend, he had other duties to attend to such as divvying up land between his sons and nephews, figuring out trade agreements with the Avari and Teleri of the land as getting the Noldor properly settled. It just so happened that Feanor’s people had been in the lands just a bit longer to settle more properly and the steads of all of his sons were built quickly and efficiently because the best of the masons, builders and forgers were in their company. 

Maedhros was still unsure as to who from Fingolfin’s line would be in attendance, because when he asked Fingon in a letter, he had received a purposefully vague response. Of course, knowing his friend he knew that meant it would almost be guaranteed that he would be showing up, the cad had to be dramatic about his reveal and not show his face to Maedhros before the actual events of said festivities began. When Maedhros had asked Finrod, the blond merely shrugged, stating that he should know the answer without even having to ask. His suspicion was confirmed when he  _ felt  _ Fingon’s presence at a rather inconvenient time. If Anariel was a wildfire that the winds of his fea could bolster and could warm his icy heart, Fingon was an ocean to which his fea created waves that washed Maedhros away in Fingons charisma. He wondered how he could love such chaotic individuals so thoroughly without being swept away in their storms, but he knew deep in his heart that he was strong enough to endure.

Anariel seemed to sense him as well, which actually did not surprise Maedhros- he and Fingon had been joined in the same spiritual sense and his soul was tied to both hers and his. When quendi enter into sexual relationships with one another it is also a way of tethering their souls to one another. This was why they often only had one partner and married for life. It was very rare and even dangerous to have more than one mate. Luckily, Maedhros’ spirit was strong. It had been decades since Fingon and Maedhros had actually been together in that sense, and incredulously Maedhros believed that would weaken their bond- he thought that was how it happened with his parents at least- but he was wrong. Any time Fingon was near, Maedhros could feel his presence, it made it all the more harder to try and end their relationship and there were still times Maedhros longed for his company. But up until recently Maedhros did not believe himself to be worthy of such pure love after all that he had endured, believing rather he was too damaged and Fingon did not deserve the hardship Maedhros’ broken mind would bring him. 

Maedhros was not absurd enough to think himself all healed now that he had Anariel, there were nights that he was the one waking from nightmares rather than her, and days that her smile and warmth could not lift the melancholy from his heart. However, he did now see that it was possible that Fingon could love him even with his trauma and he felt rather foolish for believing otherwise. There were two beings in all of Arda that he could show his weakness to without fear of judgement, and for them, he would be strong. And he loved them both- for as much as he had fallen in love with Anariel during her time with him, his love for Fingon never faded. He still craved Fingon’s presence nearly everyday, even though Anariel made his heart swell more than he thought possible. This realization hit him like a swift punch to the face when he felt Fingon in his mind for the first time in nearly a decade. Has it really been that long since they last saw one another face to face? Had they been close enough that their minds could connect so clearly they could hear one anothers voices? He had written Fingon honestly about the development of his relationship with Anariel, not wanting to cause any bitterness, and he had told Anariel of his first love shortly after they began their official relationship. Both conversations had gone rather well too, and though he was still waiting for the other boot to fall and something to go wrong- he would try not to let that weigh too heavily on him. He just wondered how they would get along- he still wished to be friends with Fingon after all, and his soul longed for him, it made his heart ache to think about. He loved them both so much, he did not know what to do- Maedhros had always been one to follow logic and make plans but there was not really any sort of guide to being in love with two people at once. 

Fingon’s spiritual presence was more pronounced than Anariels and Maedhros could feel him from rooms away (simply because Anariel was still young and learning to strengthen her spiritual prowess). Perhaps it was because of how ‘loud’ he and Anariel had been in their love making, their fea was rather pronounced when in high emotional circumstances. It could also play into how Fingon was still connected to Maedhros, and must sensed Maedhros’ familiar rise in passion. They had been in the throes of said passion throughout the night, with lulls of rest full of soft conversations in between, and it was in one of these tender moments he felt it- the presence of another within his mind. He held Anariel on his lap and she was kissing him gently, her lips ghosting over his lower ear as he liked, and her hands roaming his body with feather light touches. He was tired, but tried to build the last of his strength to start a bath for them both so they could crawl under the sheets and hopefully sleep.

Maedhros heard a familiar deep chuckle resonate in his mind, “what a sweet lover you found, Russandol.” 

His heart skipped a beat, and he felt Anariel hesitate, she separated him just enough to be able to look him in the eye, her doe eyes were wide and inquisitive, “what was that?” 

She felt him too- suddenly the way his air like fea had been soothing her and calming her down from her lust, trying to lull her into rest was joined with the meditative calmness of rhythmic waves of the water lapping on a shore. Anariel was oddly not disturbed by this new presence within their bond, but curious, but when she reached out to it, it was just a vague feeling. She wanted to know more- and felt the same draw to it as she had when she had first met Maedhros, but before their bond was solidified. 

Maedhros swallowed, rubbing her back absentmindedly with his left hand, his prosthetic had found its way to the bedside table. “Findekano.” he answered with a sureness that felt natural.

Anariel smiled understandingly, and he was both surprised and not at her lack of jealousy, “is he here?”

Maedhros returned her smile tentatively, "yes." 

Though when Maedhros reached out, Fingon's mind remained humored and brushed away Maedhros' worry,  _ rest now, Russo, we will meet tomorrow. _

“Let us bathe while we still have some energy left,” Maedhros resentfully pulled Anariel off of him, though got his fill of her absolutely debauched cunt dripping his seed.

She whined and laid back on the bed, posing for him as if to entice him for more, “Maitimo.”

He chuckled, pulling her to the end of the bed, and lifting her into his arms, “you and I both know you are moments away from passing out, and we have another long day tomorrow.”

  
  


Maedhros did not get much sleep that night, though it was not much of a change from the regular and it did not affect him much but after the night's strenuous activities he was a little sore. Anariel however was nearly falling asleep in the bathtub, she had exhausted herself with her emotions and the fact that she had put her (and Maedhros’) sexual exuberance to the test. He managed to get her out of the water to dry herself off, but the moment she was in his arms again to be carried to the bed- she was out like a light. Maedhros was almost jealous, but he truthfully did not mind, he pulled down the blanket and laid her under the sheets, even in her sleep she reached out to him. Once he had gotten rid of the completely sullied throw blanket they had been vigorously fucking on, he crawled in bed with her and submitted to her will. If he managed to fall asleep he would give himself the room he needed not to spiral into an anxiety attack- and she would understand. 

His mind wandered as he watched her sleep, he would try and introduce her to Fingon as soon as possible- she seemed rather curious about him, and Maedhros wanted to get whatever would come of it out of the way. From the feelings from both their ends of the bond, surprisingly there was nothing hostile, and Maedhros hoped that it would remain that way, and somehow, his heart was steady in the thought that it would. But his mind still raced, what if they ended up not liking each other? As unlikely as that was- they could grow jealous of one another. Maedhros still loved Fingon too, that was a major unresolved issue, because he had fallen deeply in love with Anariel at the same time. How was that even possible? Was this how his grandfather felt about Indis and Miriel? He really hated choosing between one and the other, he was sure that his heart was bound to break- because he could not leave Anariel, she had helped him so much in the past few months. And Fingon had been his first love, his best friend, they had gone through so much in Valinor to prove this love- between their father’s strife- the laws of the Valar and it seemed at times fate itself was trying to keep them apart. 

But as it seemed these thoughts were becoming too much for him to bear- and he thought of getting out of bed to wander so as not to disturb his mate- waves of calm washed over him. His pulse began to settle, and a soothing touch gently slowed his mind,  _ all will be well, my dearest. Sleep now and in the morning wake knowing fate is not always as cruel as it may seem. _

*****

When morning did come, Maedhros was awakened with tender kisses and Anariel’s soft voice enticing him, “time to wake, my handsome lover.”

Maedhros smiled slyly, but groaned feignly and wrapped his arms around Anariel as she lay to his side- not on his chest- pressing her lips to his shoulder and lifting his hand to press sweet kisses to his palm, “oh, it would seem you completely exhausted me, love, I do not think I have the strength to leave this bed. You will have to go on without me.”

Anariel giggled and wrapped her limbs around him, “to hell with that, I’m not dealing with your snickering cousins alone this morning!”

He looked down at her with a questioning look, “why would they be snickering?”

She pushed away from him and craned her neck, giving him a view of his ‘handy’ work from the night prior, “although my skin heals rather fast, it will be a few hours yet before these bruises are even half as purple.”

“Oh, that wasn’t my fault.” he grinned, moving to kiss her neck some more, which she laughed and tried to squirm from his grasp. “I was simply marking my territory- a natural thing for a male to do. Don’t fault me.”

“Ai! Maitimo!” he had her pinned now, “as if there was any doubt before!”

He stole a kiss from her lips and pried her legs open, “oh, but there was- that,” he kissed her yet again, “and you were the one begging me to show you who you belonged too- so really…” another kiss, “it is your fault.”

A knock at the door interrupted them, causing them both to startle, at the other end of it they heard Finrod’s golden voice filled with humor, “breakfast will be served shortly, if you two can find it in your will to dress and unravel yourselves from one another.”

“Give us fifteen minutes,” Maedhros replied, rolling over with a sigh, giving Anariel a ‘I’m not done with you yet’ look. The things they could manage in a few minutes was quite surprising.

“You have ten, and remember she needs to be able to walk the rest of the day.” Finrod’s steps were getting farther away, and Anariel broke into another fit of giggles.

Unfortunately, they decided it was not worth risking missing breakfast that morning for another roll in the sheets. They had gotten plenty of that out of the way the night prior, and were rather famished now that they were completely awake and both in much better moods. The festivities would not begin until late that night, when they would be guided into the forest for an under the stars party. So Anariel dressed herself in a dress that had a higher neck to hide as much of the markings of Maedhros as possible, luckily the Noldor liked these sort of styles. Unfortunately a ‘high neck’ did not cover the markings under her jaw and above that neckline- but she did not find herself caring too much. She allowed Maedhros to braid her hair back in something simple since it took him half the time to dress that it did her, allowing some of these marks to show.

He made eye contact with her in the mirror and spoke in a low and deep voice in her ear, “if I had it my way, you would be wearing that blue one you like to show all of those marks.” he sniffed behind her ear and kissed the sensitive spot tenderly, “but my pride is content in the fact that you are absolutely saturated in my scent now that I came in your cunt all night.” 

Anariel blushed, “we took a bath- it should be fine.” Honestly though, she could not bring herself to mind that too much. 

Maedhros smirked, “Melda, you are going to need a few baths before my scent is off of you.”

Elves had a surprisingly keen sense of smell, she had learned that early on when knowing the quendi, but there were few times that she actually was so aware. When she and Maedhros walked into the guest’s dining hall that morning, she was very much aware of this fact. Artanis gave her a ‘look’ that Anariel knew she was being judged (frankly she did not understand since she was already committed to Maedhros it would be different if it was another). Aegnor snickered despite himself and earned a kick to the shin from his sister under the table. Maedhros was smug when Aegros couldn’t even look at them properly, his nose scrunched a little when they walked in and his eyes quickly darted between them before going back to poking at his food. Anariel saw the emotion hiding in his eyes- she knew him well enough that his thoughts were not just of loss of opportunity, but flashing back to...before. She held her head high, it was no longer like that, and she was proud to be drenched in Maedhros scent. Her mate loved her, and took care of her and there was no need to be ashamed, if Aegros did not like this, he did not have to be her friend.

Maedhros pulled out her chair that was waiting for her beside Finrod, leaning down to give her a tender kiss before taking a seat himself. He had never been one for PDA, and even around his brothers, he kept it to hand holding and hugs, perhaps, if he was in a particularly good mood, he would give her forehead a kiss- which she loved. This was purposeful and it made her heart flutter, she smiled just as tenderly at him as he took his seat, ignoring the eyes on her in favor of his loving gaze. 

“Well,” Finrod cleared his throat and tried to hold back his golden laugh, “I’m glad to see you two are so well rested.”

“I don’t think they got much rest last night, brother,” Aegnor chuckled, “poor Lissanare walked in here like a newborn calf.”

“Don’t be so vulgar.” Artanis gave her brother a look of disdain.

“I didn’t say anything-”

“Don’t be so prudish Artanis,” Angrod spoke up, “this isn’t half as bad as when Irisse and Tyelkormo came back from that hunting expedition after she had come of age. And you don’t even have the ties to Neylo to be so upset.”

Anariel took a sip of a hot morning beverage and furrowed her brow, looking at Maedhros, “Tyelkormo has a wife?”

“Well, they were never truly married, Tyeko's mate is actually the Valar Orome- but thats a story for another day.” Maedhros gave her a mental promise to explain later, “speaking of our cousins- where are the Nolofinweans?”

Artanis gave him another look of judgement, but before she could speak, Finrod gave her a stern stare and spoke, “you know Finno, wanting to make his reveal as dramatic as possible- he arrived late last night with Turno.”

“And they skipped breakfast?” Maedhros raised a brow, “Finno’s appetite is so insatiable I worried he would empty Doriath’s pantry.”

“The only thing Finno loves more than good food is a comfortable bed.”

“Ah, you should know that, Nelyo.” Aegnor jabbed, “it’s too bad yours is already crowded or he would have joined you last night, surely.”

Artanis cleared her throat and stood, “if this is the way our breakfast conversation is heading, I will take my leave.”

“Oh...no, please...don’t go…” Aegnor jested. 

“I...I am going to head out too. I took an extra shift with the marchwarden this afternoon.” Aegros stood abruptly from his place and backed away from the table, “Am-Anariel,”

Anariel and Maedhros both cast their attention to him, though Maedhros was still slightly protective, Anariel brushed her mind to assure him that she was now fine with addressing her old friend. “Yes?”

Aegros’ eyes darted between her and Maedhros, he took a deep breath, and in doing so was reminded once again that she was his with their mingled senses, “ _ I’m sorry for yesterday, it seems I offended your mate and was insensitive during dinner…” _

_ “Apology accepted,”  _ She smiled reassuringly, she did not care now if he judged her or not, she knew her place and who she was.

He smiled back and left, she knew that he was fighting between his old way of thinking that was imposed on him from the poison of Angband and returning to the open and kind spirit he once was. That was the reason for his judgement- he was still struggling with what Angband did to him as she was dealing with what happened to her. As he left, she squeezed Maedhros’ hand reassuring that she was fine, and expressed her thoughts to him through their bond. She wanted to be friends with Aegros, and once he let go to Adam as she had let go of Amelia, she had a feeling that they could once again be. Maedhros accepted her thoughts on the matter, and though he still did not care for the things Adam had done, if she thought she could be friends with Aegros, he could learn to be less hostile towards the other male.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fingon finally makes his debut

Anariel and Maedhros were taken on a tour of Menegroth after breakfast was done- since the festivities would not begin until later that night when the sun had set and stars were in the sky they had plenty of time. Finrod was their guide, showing them how the delivery system for large goods was handled by a system of ropes and pulleys, how they separated the civilian living quarters from the marketplace at the entrance to the cave, and explained some of the history of the caves. The Sindar had been on good terms with the naugrim and commissioned them to assist in the hewning of the thousand caved city, to be fashioned after one of their own underground fortresses, but of course with the elegance of the elves. Maedhros and Anariel were quite amazed, and could see the wheels in Finrod’s head turning as he spoke. He had seen the work first hand- even assisted on digging out new cave systems just to quench his curiosity on the matter, with an expanding population, new additions were sometimes necessary.

“This is truly magnificent,” Maedhros commented, as they reached a high place within the caves to look about, seeing the different paths and roads within that lead to other caves and buildings within, “however, I find it hard to imagine in a siege, there would not be another way out. What if the enemy had somehow invaded, worst case scenario?”

Finrod agreed to this, “that is a wise question, cousin,” Anariel could sense his hesitation in his answer, something within him compelled him to keep quiet.

Anariel felt it as well, a sense of foreboding- as if having this knowledge would be detrimental someday, “there must be a back door, of sorts.”

“Not many know of it- I have not been given the privilege myself to see.” Finrod added quickly, out of character, “though I may be kin to Thingol through my grandfather, I am still Noldo, and unfortunately that information is too vital for anyone but Sindar- and no other Sindar but the royal family- to know.”

Maedhros nodded, seeming to be the only one not to have the same feeling run up his spine, “I see, that is a good way of keeping the information safe, I suppose.”

******

Feanor had made his appearance within Menegroth- finally- as Anariel was finally dawning the dress his son, Caranthir had designed for her, and the jewelry made by his protege, Curufin and grandson Celebrimbor. She admired herself in the mirror, the dress fit her perfectly without the need for alterations, and she had braided her hair into a thick and loose type braid pinned in place with clips made of gold, tipped with either pearls or diamonds like the tiara on her head. Her dress shimmered in the firelight of the room as she spun, fluffing out the skirts and admiring it from all angles. Though the top was semi-sheer, you could see a good amount of her skin through it as vines of flowers crawled up from the pinched waist that made it into an A-line and complemented her hourglass shape. There was only a slight imperfection to her image- though she personally did not see them as such.

  
“How scandalous,” his voice startled her, even more so was the figure staring back at her from the mirror, “first you walk out of your rooms reeking of sex to prove some kind of point to that bastard-”

“He isn’t a bastard-” Anariel tried to defend herself from his accusing tone quickly- caught off guard by his appearance, it had been quite a while since the last time he physically projected himself.

Feanor stood behind her, hands ghosting over her shoulders as he admired her reflection, she could feel his touch- or was that just her imagination, “and then you show up to their party with all these little bruises on your skin. Tell me, what sort of animal have you turned my eldest into?”

She turned to argue with him, but saw humor in his eyes, “I have done no such thing- the marks are not even that visible, they’ve healed rather nicely and will be gone before the night is even over.”

Feanor rolled his eyes, “I’m not scolding you, I’m teasing. I quite agree with your choice and do believe I have been telling you for a while that he would be a suitable mate. I am just impressed by your bravery, you have never been one to flaunt your love life.”

“I have not had a lover that I would like to flaunt.” she smiled and turned away, heading towards the entry for the suite and slipping on her shoes. “Is there something I can help you with? You have not deigned me worthy of your presence in quite some time.”

“Your mind has not needed me in quite some time.”

Anariel turned back to him with a tender smile, “I have been doing better,” though this made her think and grow curious, “so why is it you are appearing now?”

“Since this is the first time you have been without company on this trip, I wish to tell you to be careful around the Sindar, especially their King and Queen. The Umanyar are a wild and savage folk no matter how civilized they appear, they are very welcoming and good hosts so long as you remain on their goodside.”   
  


“What are you trying to tell me Feanor?” Anariel furrowed her brow- sure she did notice that the people of Doriath were different from the Noldor, and their king and queen especially but never sensed any hostile intent.

Feanor came to stand in front of her, looking her dead in the eye, “To put it bluntly- my father told me of Elwe, he had always been quick to anger and easy to offend and not the wisest. If he hears of the atrocities committed by me in Alqualonde where his brother is king and his sundered people have made home- my son- your lover will pay the consequences. Perhaps even the whole of the Noldor within this land.” 

She swallowed hard, her mind processing this, he was absolutely right, “then I will keep this information to myself. Though I must say, if the Arafinweans have not brought it up yet, I do think it would be safe to say it will not be a topic of conversation tonight.”

He nodded in agreement, “yes, that is correct, there is also another matter, that is more likely to come up as well that I would suggest not speaking of, and that is of how your powers came to be.”

Anariel nodded, “and you don't think that Aegros has already told them?”

“I do not, to be frank, that boy was not very observant during that time period to things that did not concern him.” There were footsteps heard outside of the door, her heart swelled with the familiar feeling of her mate being near, “all I know is that if he learns of the silmarils, it will likely spiral to him learning the history behind them. I doubt you would have spoken on the subject to begin with, but I would rather tell you than regret not doing so while I had the chance.” 

His image began to fade, before he was completely gone, he stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, she was surprised by his tenderness, but did not mind the contrast from his usual sharpness, “have fun tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“Are, darling, who are you talking to?” Maedhros opened the door, soothing her worries and clearing her senses like a breath of fresh air.

She straightened herself out and let a little of her power out to shine, “no one, Mae, just by reflection.”

His steel eyes melted with tenderness and admiration as he got his fill of her beauty, “absolutely gorgeous.”

Anariel spun once, letting her dress and jewels glitter before walking over to him, “you look rather handsome yourself.”

He had been getting ready with Finrod, who assisted him with traditional Noldor braids in his long auburn hair, tying in a golden diem that matched hers- a last minute gift from Curufin. His robes were elegant, the same gold as her jewels but with smaller diamonds and pearls tied in along the lines of his sleeves and hems. It was much brighter than what he usually wore- but she quite liked it. His hair was braided several times as well, two thicker strands to hold it back and then some down his back as well, overall he was dressed rather well.

He bowed and offered her his arm, “let us get going, I have a feeling you are going to meet someone special tonight.” Though there was a pit in his stomach of his new lover meeting his first love, something else promised him things would go much better than what his anxiety had been trying to convince him of.

Anariel smiled and lifted her brow, “I am very excited, I wonder why he has decided to wait all day.”

“Findekano has a knack for dramatics at times,” Maedhros led her down the halls, towards the guest lobby.

“Hm, it seems that you have a type, dear.” Anariel chuckled.

  
  


*******

The festival took place in a clearing not too far from the cave entrance, there were lanterns lighting the way, and through the forest different small groups of Sinda wandered off to conversate. Anariel was again reminded of the magic laced in the airs of the forest as it made her head a little light and airy- but in a good way- as if she had just the right amount of alcohol in her system. Fireflies danced in the foliage and bushes, and crickets sang along with active creatures of the night, giving the land a fairytale like feeling. In the clearing she could hear light hearted music playing and she could see that people were beginning to dance to the music, she stayed close to Maedhros, keeping her arm hooked to his so that she did not accidently wander and get lost in a crowd of strangers. Though she did not think it would be too difficult to find her way back to her mate (besides the obvious connection that would draw her back) the people of Doriath were dressed differently. As they were during normal times of the day- they wore similar colors of earthy tones, greens, browns and beige, but with less coverage, the dresses were low and showing a lot of skin and the males as well worn open robes or no top at all. 

But there was one who stood apart from the crowd- whether it be from his intricate blue dressings that silver embroidery glowed in the moonlight, or the ribbons of gold braided into his hair, Anariel was drawn to him. The moment her eyes locked onto his, she knew him; recalled his presence within the mind of her mate and felt friendliness and welcome. Findekano the valiant. Maedhros’ other mate, the one who saved him from his torture upon the wall of thangorodrim and had been his childhood friend and first love. But with all this in mind, Anariel did not feel the least bit inferior, she was drawn to him- and Maedhros was guiding her right to him. Before greeting anyone else at the party.

Maedhros was drawn to him as well, not due to the newness of him, but because his fea’s longing for him had finally had enough waiting. It had been too long and now that he thought of it, he felt foolish for ever trying to push Fingon away. The familiarness of him was enough to ease all the anxieties that Maedhros had felt building in the past day, especially when he sensed both his mates were at ease. As much as he wished to rush into his arms- he knew better, but the walk over to greet him was excruciatingly long. Fingon remained composed as well, putting on a good show of being calm and in control; Maedhros knew that he was calm on the surface but below a torrent of emotion was their. Fingon had missed Maedhros just as fiercely and as much as he knew that Maedhros needed space or at least acted like it he still couldn’t stop missing him. 

When they finally came to stand before one another, they were all silent, Fingon’s eyes met Maedhros’ and were watery, but tears did not fall, “It has been a while, Russo.” His voice was velvety and rich.

Maedhros smiled genuinely, his eyes lighting up, getting dewy as well, but both were too stubborn to actually cry, “hello Finno.”

Anariel watched the intense interaction with awe, there was no jealousy in her heart which was a little surprising, only an immense amount of gratitude. She was so glad that a piece of Maedhros’ heart was returned to him in this interaction, she did not even realize it was missing until they saw Fingon. It was hard to explain, but as happy and at peace as she had felt Maedhros in the past, she knew that there was always some part of him missing. It did not allow him to get the same genuine rest or fulfillment out of life as he could have gotten. 

Ocean eyes set on Anariel, making her heart swell and fea sing to life, “well met, Anariel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and kudos, it's literally the fuel of my muse and will keep me writing for you! I hope you like this, it is my first fic for the Silm, it'll probably be longer, full of angst, smut and some happiness and humor all blurred into one story!
> 
> Quenya or Sindarin words I will use often: 
> 
> Áre  
> Q. noun. day, sunlight, sunlight, warmth (especially of the sun)
> 
> Pia nárë  
> Q. little flame
> 
> Melda  
> Q. Dearest
> 
> Lissanare  
> Q. Name meaning Flame of Grace or Graceful flame, an Epesse for Anariel given to her by Finrod
> 
> Alcarinque  
> Q. Glorious  
> This will be Anariel's last name or 'surname' of sorts, it is given to her to reference her as Maedhros' mate, since this is also an epesse of sorts for him in reference to his bright spirit that still burned (even more brightly) after his imprisonment. It is also the name of one of the brightest stars in the skies.


End file.
